Hell Is But A Passage
by Kamiya-Sensei
Summary: A tale of fates. what if the true vilains were not the ones you thought? What if all the hloy wars had been fought but for one cause only? chapter XIV is up. Persephone's return, Poseidon's scheming and growing worries in sanctuary. War is near...
1. Cora

Disclaimer : Saint Seiya doesn't belong to me, nor does any of the characters from it, may they be minor or major, who might be here stated. All mythological characters belong to the Greek culture. Only Claire and the plot of this story are mine.

The orphanage of Codgnan, near Nîmes does exist. There was once a Benedictine order of sisters there though it is no longer the case. The fire in Tanneron mentioned in the story also occurred in October 1970.

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CHAPTER I

CORA

The morning sun crept its way across the face of a little girl through the cracks of the shutters. She could hear the birds chirping already and guessed it must not have been more than seven in the morning. A woman quietly made her way into the room and opened the curtains in a quick gesture and made her way to the child's bed.

"Wake up, dear" she whispered. "Breakfast is soon to be served."

The little girl did not reply and looked away from the kind elderly woman's face as though she had not heard what she had said. The older woman sighed before making her way to the other beds in the room. Kneeling by each of them, she repeated the words already whispered in the first child's ears, and once each of them awoken, she left the room and headed towards another one, surely about to proceed to the same ritual she had just done.

All the children in the room were by now out of bed and quickly putting on the clothes prepared for them, hurrying to go to breakfast, only the little girl remained in her bed, forgetful to all the havoc going on around her. Once the room was empty, she quietly came out of her bed, tidied the sheets and slowly gazed upon the clothes neatly folded at the end of her bed: a little sleeveless black dress of cotton with a large square white collar and a little white cardigan in case the air should be cool outside. Someone knocked on the door softly and told her to hurry before breakfast was over. She did not reply and the person on the other side seemed to take her silence for a yes as she soon heard footsteps going down the stairs. She gave one last critical glance at her 'uniform' before slipping it on and once her small sandals at her feet, she made her way to the stairs. Dragging her feet while coming down, she seemed to take a certain pleasure in the noise she was making until she finally reached the dining hall.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Claire, vous êtes enfin debout!"*

The one speaking was another woman dressed in black with a white vale covering her hair. She was not as old as the one who had awoken her in the morning but her face was half hidden by a large pair of glasses. Had the situation been different, the child would surely have laughed at such a sight, but now she simply gazed blankly at the one addressing her. The woman sighed before taking her hand and leading her to a table where one seat had remained empty.

"Installez vous ici."

She did as she was told and took a seat without looking at those beside her. The woman with the large glasses gave her a last glance before turning around, shaking her head, sadly.

All the other children were talking and babbling around her and she begun to feel annoyed. She had barely eaten one piece of bread when she decided to leave her seat and run outside unnoticed.

The air outside was warm, even for a morning in the south of France. The delicate smells of thyme and lavender came to her nose and for the first time since she had first arrived in the orphanage, she managed to crack a smile. It had been three weeks now since she had arrived in Codognan's orphanage, held by the Benedictine sisters. Since then, she had not spoken to anyone, nor tried to befriend any of the kids living around her. At first, they had attempted to talk to her but she had simply answered with a blank stare. After a week, she had been officially declared a freak and was called "pas Claire"* when they thought she wasn't listening. But although she knew, she simply shrugged it off. She didn't care. They could think what they wanted of her; it was none of her concern.

After a few minutes, the other orphans started to come out into the garden as well, and slowly her smile faded to her usual expressionless features. She quietly came to her feet and brushed her clothes absentmindedly, gazing from time to time at a group of boys, slightly older than her, playing football in the field close by. The sisters had come outside as well and were talking together, while looking over the group of children under their care. The bell soon rang nonetheless, and the children dashed to make their way to the various classrooms of the building. The child started to make her way towards them before stopping dead in her tracks. She seemed to consider for a while and finally turned her heels in the opposite direction, running as fast as she could to avoid being seen. Once she had reached the shadow of the nearby stable, she came to a halt and caught her breath. She was not used to running away from school but today, she did not feel like wasting her time listening to the monotonous voice of the head sister. After a while hiding in the stable, she started wondering what she could possibly do to occupy herself before the next bell rang. When she had decided to skip school, she hadn't thought breaking the rules would turn out to be so frustrating. It ended up being as boring as school itself. Not that there was much to life here anyways, she thought. She turned her attention to the grass, and watched as the sun and the wind played amongst its blades. She smiled forgetfully, letting her fingers twirl around a few sprigs, and before she knew it, she was fast asleep.

"Réveille toi! Hé! Je te parle! Réveille toi! »

The voice was annoying and persistent. She realized it must be a young boy's voice, perhaps about her age, and it reassured her to think it was not one of the sisters who had found her. But suddenly, her eyes snapped open. Did this mean another child was next to her?

She turned around brusquely and tried scrambling to her feet, but she was still taken over by sleep and only managed to fall back on her behind.

"Hmf, you are still drowsy with sleep! You shouldn't have tried to get up so fast!"

She couldn't believe it. This boy was not even making fun of her? Whoever could he be?

Slowly, she raised her eyes from behind her dark bangs and looked him over. He must not have been much older than she was and had a strange color of hair. It was some sort of aquamarine hue that matched his eyes, roughly cut at the height of his shoulders. It gave him a strange look and she couldn't help to look at him quizzically. She didn't recall seeing him before, but at the same time, she never interested herself in the others around her.

He must have sensed her uneasiness and turned his gaze to the ground.

"Go on, say it," he said bitterly.

"Wh…What?" she stuttered, startled by his reaction.

"That I'm a freak!" he snapped, angrily.

Now, she was confused. First, he was talking to her and now, he was attacking her for no reason. What was his problem anyway?

"You don't look like one, like a freak I mean," she added quickly when he glared at her.

"That's because you haven't seen what I can do. I scare the hell out of them. That's why they won't come near me. And the sisters neither. They'd rather have me out of their sight than risking causing havoc amongst them!"

Now he was yelling. What was going on with him? She'd only tried being nice. And he should at least have felt a little thankful for her kind words; he was the only person she'd spoken to since her arrival. And that was no little honor.

Suddenly she felt a cold wind settle around her, making her slightly shiver. The boy turned towards a bunch of daisies that were growing next to the brick wall of the stable and 'launched' all his fury towards them. She could not have thought of a better way to describe the scene than in such words, and the daisies, seemingly object of his anger, froze on the spot, to her outer bewilderment.

The boy gazed at what he had done horrified, switching his attention back and forth between her and the frozen flowers. The girl thought he was about to cry or yell out again but nothing happened of the sort. Slowly, in despair, he let his arms fall to his sides and lowered his eyes, his bangs hiding his eyes before he turned around and yelled back at her, while running away:

"See, I told you I was a freak!"

For a while, she remained motionless, still gazing towards the direction in which he had disappeared. She couldn't help feeling sorry for him, even if she wasn't truly the type of person that cared for the others. Well, in this place, anyways. She finally switched her attention to the unfortunate daisies, kneeling before the frozen patch. The ice burnt her fingers as she ran them across the sprigs, but to her astonishment, the contact of her hands made the ice melt away. Soon, the flowers were as they used to be and no traces of their previous frozen state were detectable. She wondered what could have happened, gazing at her fingers in wonder. Wherever could this have come from, she wondered?

Then, she heard it: the bells for the mid day break. Without thinking, she cut the bunch of daisies and ran back to the orphanage. As she ran, she wondered who that boy could be. He had frightened her with his strange powers, but he seemed to be as frightened about them as she was, if not even more. She needed to know more about him. She didn't know why she wanted to speak to him, she who had decided to not make any attempts of befriending people in this place she would never call 'home', but somehow she felt she needed to. After all, couldn't two freaks get along together?

When she arrived to the main building, the sister with the large glasses was causing a whole commotion, trying desperately to know where she had gone. Then, she saw her and the child felt as though she would be burnt right on the spot. Just after seeing someone freeze a whole bunch of flowers, this impression gave her a strange feeling.

« Mademoiselle Claire, où étiez vous passé?"

The woman was clearly upset, but the little girl only responded with a blank stare, which finished cracking the poor sister.

"You have broken the rules, mademoiselle. Because of this, you will be consigned to your room until tomorrow morning."

She held the child by the arm with a firm grip, though the girl felt the older woman did not wish to hurt her. She seemed to have genuinely been afraid something might happen to her and she could not help feeling slightly guilty for her careless behavior. Still, she reminded herself, it had been worth it after all. She'd seen flowers freeze! Once the door slammed behind her, she carefully took out the flowers from her large pocket. She had not ruined them, thankfully, and she set them on her bedside table before drowning into a dreamless sleep.

When she awoke, the others had not yet come to sleep and she could hear voices downstairs giggling. A tray of food was lying beside her: one of the sisters must have brought it up for her to eat but the meal was now too cold to be eaten. Still drowsy, she made sure this time not to get up too quickly and slowly made her way to the door, not forgetting to take the flowers with her. If the boy she had met had also been found by the sisters, he was surely punished and consigned to his room as well. She crept all the way to the boys' dormitory and laid the flowers in front of the door. She hadn't forgotten to scribble a note in the smudgy hand writing of a three year old, remembering how to form letters the way her mother had taught her before the fire, and set it on top the flowers before knocking briskly on the door and running off back to her room. She did not turn around to see if someone had come to take the flowers but had she done so, she would have seen a blue haired little boy of around four pick up the daisies with a small grin on his face. And on the note, he read with the little knowledge of letters he had: "You are not a freak. Cora."


	2. Everlasting Spring

Disclaimer : Saint Seiya doesn't belong to me, nor does any of the characters from it, may they be minor or major, who might be here stated. All mythological characters belong to the Greek culture. Only Claire and the plot of this story are mine.

The orphanage of Codognan, near Nîmes does exist. There was once a Benedictine order of sisters there though it is no longer the case. The fire in Tanneron mentioned in the story also occurred in October 1970.

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CHAPTER II

EVERLASTING SPRING

The next morning, Cora felt as though she had just woken from a strange dream. Like every other day, the eldest sister came to wake them, starting with her, and continued her morning routine until all children were awake and dressing up. All seemed to be going on like any other day, yet the child felt something different was going on with her. Discarding it, she slowly went out of bed and tidied the sheets, before slipping on her daily clothes. As usual, she came down late but this time, the sister with the large glasses did not let her go without a word.

"Mademoiselle Claire, what you have done yesterday was totally out of place. Therefore, today, you shall not be allowed to leave the dining hall during the breaks and this until the end of the week."

The sister made sure the child had taken in the information and was slightly surprised to see a bit of sadness in her eyes, but this only comforted her in the idea that this was the best way to make sure she would not skip school again. Gently, yet firmly, she led the child to an empty seat at a nearby table and made sure she always had an eye on her. She did not wish to risk the child escaping to God only knew exactly where while she was not looking.

Cora made a face and stared blankly at the bowl of hot milk chocolate in front of her. Though she had not eaten anything since the previous day, she suddenly felt disgusted with all sort of food placed in front of her. She needed to go outside. Nature was her dwelling, her love, her passion; the only thing she understood and which understood her.

"You ought to eat, you know. Otherwise you'll end up fainting in class."

The voice was cold, yet friendly and when she turned her head to see who had been speaking to her, she could not help to crack a smile: it was the boy from the previous day!

She noticed his hair was tidier than the day before, and his expression seemed less aggressive. Slowly and discretely so no one would notice, he bent towards her and whispered to her ear:

"Thank you for the flowers, and I'm glad you don't think I'm a freak, even though I clearly am one. But maybe that's because you're one too."

Cora felt slightly annoyed by this statement but chose not to answer and waited for him to continue.

"Because you did unfroze them, didn't you? Usually, all I freeze never melts down, it can even stand the sun's bright light without melting a bit. So my guess is you're a freak, like me. But maybe two freaks can understand each other, no?"

He had said all this in a monotonous tone but still the young girl felt a glint of hope at the end of his words which brought up a new feeling within her. She would finally have someone to talk to!

Slowly, she turned her attention back to him and whispered back:

"We can be friends if you want."

At first, he did not reply and Cora feared she had not understood his intentions in the first place. Maybe he just felt content knowing he was not the only freak around, but did not wish to have any friendship relations whatsoever with someone else. He seemed to pounder her words for a while and she chose not to disturb him, trying to eat as much as she could persuade herself to without being sick. The head sister finally rang the bell for the morning break and everyone left the room to run outside in the open. That is, everyone except her and the strange blue haired boy sitting next to her. The sister who had previously punished them seemed to think for a while before going towards them and taking each of them by the hand.  
"You cannot go outside but you do not have to sit there at your tables mournfully. Come, I will take you to the library. You do not know how to read yet, but we have a lot of books with pictures on them, it will be better than staying in this great dining hall all alone, don't you think?"

She smiled at the two of them but they remained expressionless as ever, which only managed to make her sight for the hundredth time.

Once in the library, the two children sat silently in front of each other until the sister abandoned all hope of hearing them speak and went to look upon the other children still playing outside. That was precisely the moment the boy chose to speak up again.

"I am happy to be your friend, Cora," he said calmly. "My name is Pierre."

He smiled wanly at her, and went to pick up a book before starting to read.

"How… How come you can read?" she asked, startled.

"And how come you can write?" he answered back, in the same even tone as usual. "And", he continued, "if I didn't know how to read, how could I have read your note or speak to you about it this morning at breakfast?"

She gasped as if she was missing air. His long monologue has surprised her greatly and now she did not know what to answer. Of course, he was right! If he didn't know how to read, he could not have read her note and it would have been pointless for her to write anything. She suddenly felt very stupid. What if he hadn't been able to read, which would clearly have been logical since three year olds usually did not know how? She gulped, before answering him in a deaf tone.

"Mother taught me, before the fire."

"The fire?" Pierre closed his book, clearly surprised by her declaration.

She nodded.

"My parents died when our house caught fire in Tanneron last October. I was at school and all of us were saved but the firemen didn't come in time to stop the fire from burning the village."

An uneasy silence fell upon the room until Pierre finally murmured:

"I'm sorry."

He came close to her and sat his little hand on her shoulder. She smiled briefly at his friendly gesture.

"It's alright; I have to live with it now. Crying won't bring them back."

They stayed like this for quite some time until the bell rang again and the sister came to bring them to class. Before getting separated again, Pierre whispered to her ear:

"Let's meet after classes, ok? And when we're allowed out again, we can meet outside!"

He winked, and left to go to his appointed seat.

After this, nothing was quite the same. Cora and Pierre frequently met and spent time together, though often in silence. They never spoke again of their strange abilities: both the surprising and unnatural ones, nor of their respective families. The sisters often wondered of this strange new friendship, not truly supporting it as they thought Pierre was the child of a devil, being able to freeze matter without control, yet this too seemed to have relinquished since he had warmed up to 'Claire's' presence. They were now reaching the end of January and winter had still not laid claim upon the small orphanage. The sisters started whispering amongst themselves. Could it be that a miracle had befallen them, and that winter would not bare all the land with ice and frost, instead giving them eternal spring? Whatever the reason, the sisters doubled their worshipping time, thanking God for this grace that had befallen them, for outside of the small monastery's territory where the orphanage stood, the cold wind blew all its might and frost could be seen in the early morning covering the fields and roofs. Even the children were starting to wonder what was happening, looking questioningly towards the skies above, as if God or one of his angels would come down to them and declare them Saints or divine beings of some kind. The truth was, all felt special in their own way, believing that the heavens had recognized in them some sort of grace unknown to them. All, except Cora and Pierre. They too wondered about the weather's strange changes but never believed once that they could be graced by any special powers from above. Maybe it was because they were different, Cora thought though she never spoke about her questions openly with Pierre.

It was on the evening of the six of February, while the rest of the children were out playing in the fields, that Pierre chose to speak about himself for the first time. Cora had taken a book from the library without the sisters noticing and decided to offer it to her friend for his birthday that was due the next day. They were quietly spending the last free time of the day outside next to the stable of their first meeting when she shyly took the book out of her pocket. She had noticed he was always reading when the sisters were not looking and some of the books were definitely out of reach for a three year old's mind but then again, it was Pierre she was talking about; Pierre, who already knew how to read when he should not have. Well, she could read and write too, but that was not the point. She never read novels of more than two hundred pages. They were both weird, that was a fact, he perhaps even more than her, but it had been a silent arrangement between them never to speak of what differentiated them from the rest of the children their age. So it was, with a bit of unease, that she handed him the book, roughly wrapped in a piece of newspaper she had no doubt stolen from the sisters' dining table. He gave her a questioning look, to which she simply answered:

"For your birthday."

"You didn't have to," he answered, quite taken aback by her action.

She shrugged.

"We're friends, no? Friends give each other presents for their birthdays. At least, that's what I heard", she finished, mumbling to herself.

He managed to crack a small smile and undid the paper wrapped around the object and was startled to discover what it held hidden: a book! She had acknowledged his love for books and decided to offer him one? What's more, she had taken the risk to steel one from the library of the orphanage just to offer him something for his birthday? Eagerly, he ran his eyes over the cover to see if he had not yet read the book. It was a book written by Albert Camus, l'_Etranger_. He'd never read books of him before, but he felt sure he would appreciate it, even more so as it was the first present he ever received from someone. The sisters usually made a cake for the birthday of the children and would sometimes offer them a bag of candies but it never went further than that. There was no way to express the joy and thrill he suddenly felt at being offered something by someone!

"Thank you," he whispered, smiling warmly as a tear trickled down his cheek. "You cannot imagine how happy you have just managed to make me." And on that, he fell in her little arms and cried heartily for a few minutes.

Cora did not know what to do. It was the first time she saw someone crying up close and she started feeling uncomfortable. Was he really happy with her gift? Had she done something wrong by choosing this book? Maybe he didn't like Albert Camus's books and did not want to hurt her feelings by telling her so. But then, she remembered Pierre never showed any emotions and decided he must have been truly happy with her present if he was now crying with joy over it.

When He finally let go of her, he settled himself against the brick wall and tucked the book in his pocket.

"Tell me, you never told me your birth date nor why you signed Cora when the sisters call you Claire all the time. Why that?" He asked, once he had dried all traces of tears from his face.

"Cora's my real name, they just call me Claire here because it sounds more French. My mother was Greek and Cora means 'young girl' in ancient Greek. I was born on the twentieth of March."

"Wow, on the day of the beginning of spring. That's a nice day to be born!"

They looked at each other for a while before bursting out laughing at the awkwardness of Pierre's statement, and secretly, he decided he would not forget Cora's birthday and offer her something in return. He didn't know what yet, but he was sure he would come up with an idea.

"What about you, Pierre. You never speak about yourself."

"Well, I'm French, I never knew my parents. I heard my mother abandoned me on the threshold of the monastery because she could not afford to take care of me. I'll be four years old tomorrow and as you know, I freeze things."

At this, both of them started at each other until he chose to continue.

"I learned how to read when I was two, because I had been punished and had to stay in the library during the breaks for two months. Being bored I decided to try deciphering the symbols on the pages and started reading from then on. There's not much more to say."

They gazed at each other for some time again, happy to have finally spoken to each other from the heart. They suddenly felt as though they truly knew each other, like a brother and a sister and for the first time, Pierre felt glad to have someone. More precisely, he was happy to have Cora as a friend. He never wanted to leave her side and when they grew older and had to leave the orphanage, they could live together and hold a bookstore. People would come from all over the world to buy their books and talk to Cora while he would be sitting in the back, reading books and choosing which ones to sell in their boutique. That would be a wonderful life! And they would settle near the monastery where spring lasted forever and if they ever married and had children than she would be the godmother of his children and he the godfather of hers! And her husband and his wife would get along well; they'd probably even live in the same house! It would be wonderful.

The bell rang again, and the sister with the large glasses came towards them.

"Time to go to bed, children", she said. "Tomorrow is a great day for you, Pierre. I'm sure you'll like your birthday present."

He did not reply, but still managed to give her a small smile. 'That was a premiere,' she thought. 'Claire', on her side, seemed to be beaming though she had no idea why. She could not help to feel a slight pain for the child but if the letter she had received was correct, tomorrow ought to be a great day for the both of them.

The next morning, Pierre was taken to the head sister's office and wondered if they had discovered the book missing in the library. But when he entered the room, all his previous fears vanished. There were two people standing there: a tall man with his features hidden by a great hood, and a young boy of about eleven with short brown hair nicely cut. He wondered what the presence of these people had to do with him, but secretly feared what he was beginning to understand.

"You are so lucky, Pierre," the head sister spoke up. "To be adopted on the day of your birthday! You could not have hoped for a better present!"

He was being adopted? Did this mean he would be living the orphanage? And what about Cora? And their bookstore? He wanted to scream, tell them he did not want to leave, that they could take someone else with them, he didn't care, all he wanted was to stay with Cora, and have a bookstore when he was grown up, but somehow, no sound made its way to his throat. The young teenager looked at him and gave him a warm smile.

"I know we don't know each other yet but… I hope we can get to be friends before we get the chance to call each other brothers."

He smiled at him, but Pierre only answered with a glare. How could he speak like this? He would never be his brother. The only sibling he would ever have would be Cora and no one else. Who were these people who thought they could intrude in his private life like this?

"Now, now, Aiolos, don't frighten him. I'm sure it is not easy for him to leave this place he has called home for almost four years."

The man had a warm and nice voice but Pierre could not bring himself to like him, not yet, not now.

The head sister cleared her throat and declared, in a loud voice:

"Well, I shall leave you to introduce yourselves in private. As all the papers have been signed, I will wait for you outside to give one last goodbye to the boy."

She gave him an encouraging smile and left, softly closing the door behind her. The man with the hood was the first to speak, kneeling before the boy so not to startle him.

"I am called Shion and I shall be your tutor from now on. The head sister told me you had the strange ability to freeze things around you. Where I come from, such things are not seen as frightening and we learn to use these powers to protect the earth and its people. I have come here to take you because you are to be the new saint of Aquarius."

A saint? Like Saint Paul and Saint Peter, the apostles? Pierre didn't understand anymore. Who were these people? What did they want with his powers? Would they be taking Cora too, because of her strange abilities?

The man called Shion gave a soft chuckle.

"Do not worry child, in time, you will understand. Now come, we have a long journey ahead of us."

Pierre wanted to run, flee from this room, wake up from this awful dream, but he found the strength to do neither and instead found himself soon following the man and the boy who had first spoken to him. It just felt right for him to do so, yet he could not help but rebel against that idea. This was not what he wanted! He did not wish to be saint or whatever it was called and to protect the world. All he wanted was to have a bookstore and never again hear about his strange abilities to freeze things.

But when they reached the front door, Pierre saw Cora. A man was holding her hand and smiling at the sister with the large glasses standing next to him. The head sister explained that her uncle from Greece had come to take her with him as he was now her only legal tutor and she no longer needed to stay in the orphanage, but all these words seemed distant to him, as though from another world. Fighting against this strange will that was urging him to follow his new tutor, he ran towards his only friend and squeezed her in his little arms. He realized then that they were both crying. They had never thought being separated would bring them so much pain. After all, they had only known each other for five months. Gently, Cora's uncle separated her from her friend and laid a hand on their shoulders. Shion and his son had by now reached the stranger and were facing each other in silence.

"Cora," came her uncle's soft voice. "We must leave now. But I promise you your friend may come to visit us whenever he pleases in our house in Tholo. That is, if his foster father accepts as well," he continued eying the other suspiciously. Shion's hidden face surely did not help having confidence in him, but Pierre still looked at him hopefully, hoping the man would accept. Finally Shion sighed.

"I give my permission, yet I cannot say when exactly you will be able to leave for a holiday."

"It does not matter," the Greek man answered. "You will always be welcome, my boy," he finished, addressing these last words to Pierre only, and if Shion felt uncomfortable, he did not show it. Slowly and reluctantly, Cora entered her uncle's car, moving away from Pierre's life, disappearing from his sight for he knew not how long. Little did he know he would not meet her again until fourteen years had passed.

The brown haired boy finally spoke up again, asking him a question.

"You did not give us your name! How are you called?"

Pierre seemed to think a while before giving his answer as if he was wondering whether to give his name or not. Then he felt something in his pocket and took it out for all to see. Shion and Aiolos noticed it was a book, but were unable to read the cover from where they were standing; proudly written on its cover stood the author's name: Albert Camus. And without a second thought, Pierre answered, in a cold and even tone:

"Camus."

It was only when the two children had left that the sisters started feeling the cold air of winter creeping upon them and by the time the night had fallen, winter had taken back its right upon the small monastery. Though they could not explain the reason why, the sisters soon understood that it had something to do with the children. God had chosen to punish them for sending them away or for separating them. Little did they know that they could not have been further from the truth.


	3. Argos

Disclaimer : Saint Seiya doesn't belong to me, nor does any of the characters from it, may they be minor or major, who might be here stated. All mythological characters belong to the Greek culture. Only Claire and other OCs you might find here as well as the plot of this story are mine.

The cities mentioned in this chapter truly exist in the peninsula of Peloponnese, in Greece. Tolo is beautiful and has a micro climate which makes the weather there always rather mild to warm.

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CHAPTER III

ARGOS

During the first few months of her life in Tolo, Cora barely ate or talked to anyone, considerably worrying her uncle. Each morning, she would get up before the sunrise and go stand by the main gate, only leaving her stand when the sun had gone beyond the sea. At first, her tutor tried to stop this daily routine, but to no avail. He knew what she was waiting for: a dark car, drove by a man with a hidden face, with her blue haired friend waiting in the back to jump into the open and embrace her in a tight friendly grip. He felt, deep inside, that such a sight would not occur until a very long time, but he knew not how to explain his presumptions to the child without further hurting her soul. After some time, he resigned himself, leaving a small plate of food beside her at every meal, which she rarely touched. The child was weakening day by day, the man could see it, helplessly watching her destroy herself.

One evening, after the child had long gone to sleep, he received a visit from a man of Napfilon. The stranger had not introduced himself on his arrival, but the child's tutor still did not ask for any. The two men stood for a time, facing each other in the dim light of the living room, until finally one chose to break the uneasy silence.

"You have not changed from the last time I have seen you, Phryxus," the stranger said, with a slight smile cracking the corner of his mouth, as he let himself fall in one of the armchairs behind him.

"Neither have you, Hermon, for all that I can see of your features," Phryxus replied, yet with less enthusiasm than is visitor.

The other laughed at his comment but made no move to remove the large hood covering him from head to toe.

"I hear you have taken in the child after the tragic death of her parents," he continued, his mood suddenly darker.

"Yes, I have", he replied, calmly, yet Hermon felt Phryxus was not totally at ease with his question. "Was this the object of your visit?"

"Partly, but not mainly. I came to warn you. Things are becoming more complicated than I thought."

Phryxus felt his throat tighten at this statement, but chose not to speak about his fears until his guest had finished exposing the reason of his visit.

"As you know, I am but a messenger. I cannot give you all the answers you would hope for, though the … 'incident' in Codognan ought to have alerted you."

"Indeed", Phryxus whispered, clearly troubled.

"But for now, remain watchful and all shall be well. We have faith in you, and I am sure you will not disappoint us," the other man continued, reassuringly. "There is no reason for you to worry as of yet."

"We, we! You always speak of 'we'! But who the hell is 'we'? I have absolutely no idea of whom you speak or if I ought to feel happy or frightened of this confidence you and your masters place in me!" Phryxus burst out, in rage. "Who the hell are you?" he ended in despair.

At these words, Hermon rose to his feet, as though ready to slap the man for not controlling himself, but after a second thought, he leaned back in his seat and waited for the other to calm down.

"I have no answer to give you", he said after a while. "Consider us as friends; you need no more than this. And never speak of hell; it is a place that ought not to be disturbed." He had meant for his words to sound reassuring, but the sharpness in his tone made Phryxus understand that he had better not put his visitor's words in doubt a second time.

"Ye… Yes, pardon me. It is just… I feel so lost! I don't even know how to take care correctly of the child! She is starving herself to death and I can see no way to save her by my own means. I… I was thinking of bringing a doctor here tomorrow. I have no better choice!"

Hermon looked at the man cracking in front of him, so much different from the Phryxus he had been used to; the man, proud and sure of himself that could have brought down heaven all by himself had he been asked. But, he reminded himself, things had never been the same since _they _had left.

Seeming to think for a while, he finally placed a comforting hand on the other man's forearm and forced him to look at him in the eyes.

"I am sure a doctor would do no better than you, Phryxus. You know the answer lies in you alone."

Phryxus seemed to consider this before nodding slowly in approval and watched as his guest rose from his seat and headed back towards the door.

"Remember, it is only forteen years, Phryxus. After this, you will be released of your duty."

There seemed to be a gust of wind for an instant as Hermon opened the door and Phryxus rushed to stop it from slamming shut, but before he had reached it, the gate had gently closed itself, as if the wind had been but a trick of his own imagination.

The next morning, Cora came down the stairs and headed for the front door but this time, Phryxus was waiting for her there. She showed no sign of her surprise, and tried to go past him but the man's firm grip on her shoulder made her change her mind. Instead, she turned her pale grey eyes in the direction of her uncle's own face and waited for him to speak. Phryxus only sighed and picking up the child, led her to the other side of the house where the windows gazed upon the Bay of Tolo. Taking a seat for the child and himself, they sat there silently for what seemed like hours, neither of them speaking a word. At first, Phryxus feared the girl would tie of this and run back to her watching post by the main gate but she made no motion of doing so and after a while, the older man relaxed.

"You know, your friend will not come to visit until a very long time, Cora," he started, as the child slowly turned her attention to him. "He has gone to place where… let us say, where people train to become better at helping people."

"Like a doctor?"

"Ye... Yes! And ... No!" he stammered, taken aback by the child's question. "It's more like … becoming a monk of some sort…" he finished, appalled by his piteous explanation.

"A monk? But Pierre doesn't want to be a monk. He wants to hold a bookstore! Well, he never said so … But I'm sure that's what he would like!"

Phryxus laughed slightly and the child glared at him before pouting, her arms crossed.

"Why are you laughing, uncle Phryxus? It is not funny!"

"I'm only laughing because I'm happy", he said, after having brushed a few tears of laughter from the corner of his eyes. "I'm happy because I finally get to hear you speak," he added after seeing the little girl's confused expression.

He set an arm around her little form and brought her close to him in a fatherly embrace.

"You know Cora, I'm sure Pierre will find happiness in what he does, whatever it is precisely. And once he is done with his training, then perhaps he will come here."

"How do you know all this, uncle Phryxus? I thought Pierre had simply been adopted by some strange man but you seemed to know him on that day when you came to take me from the orphanage. Tell me, who is the man with the hood?"

Phryxus momentarily let go of his niece's shoulder, realizing he had said much more than he should have. Yet what evil he had done, was done and he had still to give the child an answer.

"Shion… the man with the hood, and I have … met before in the past, not so long ago. It's something I do not really like to speak about. It brings back painful memories."

Cora waited for him to continue but no further explanation came from her uncle. When she looked up at him to see if he would pursue his monologue, she noticed his gaze had lost itself in the distance, as if trying to see beyond the horizon. Realising he had left his mind wonder again, Phryxus smiled nervously back at his niece and taking her by the hand, he led her on the terrace for each of them to take their meal.

"Come, let us have some sort of supper; you haven't eaten since so long, you ought to have something before going to bed."

Only then did she realize the sun was already beginning to set in the west, and she hurriedly went to join her uncle for a small collation.

"Uncle, what lies beyond the bay?" she asked, after they had finished eating some hummus and olives from the garden.

"Why do you ask?"

Phryxus seemed uncomfortable with the question but the child simply shrugged.

"Just wondering. I never saw the sea before coming here. I was wondering what there was behind. Is it the end of the world?"

"The end of the world? Oh no! The earth is round you know."

Of course, she knew it already, he was sure of it, but he couldn't help to muse at her innocent question.

"Behind Tolo's little island, there is a whole group of small islands called the Cyclades. It is a beautiful place, not far from Crete where they say the frightening Minotaur lived. You ought to read these legends you know, once you have learned to of course. One of these islands is called Milos Island, where they found a statue of Aphrodite that is now in Paris' Louvre Museum. It used to be a nice place to go swimming but it has recently been bought by a rich land owner. That is truly a pity. I used to love spending some time there when I was a child."

He smiled fondly at her as she nodded in silent agreement, but his eyes were sad and she wondered why.

Once in her room, she found she could not sleep. Pierre would not come to visit Tolo, ever, or not until a very long time. This weird man, Shiem or something, had taken him away to become some sort of special person who would help people in the world and she was sure it had something to do with his power to freeze things. But why ad they not taken her a well? Maybe unfreezing things wasn't that great a power, but how would they manage if Pierre ever froze something he hadn't intended to if she was not there to undo it? And what if he died while training? That only thought frightened her. But somehow, what she feared most was that perhaps he would forget her and never come to see her, even when he would have finished his training.

Silently, she sat in her bed and tried to stop herself from worrying. She should have taken a book to read herself to sleep from the library downstairs but now, she did not want to risk waking her uncle. Still, after thirty minutes of turning around in her bed, she silently opened her door and slipped into the hall and down into the library. She thought she might find a book on the Greek legends Phryxus had spoken about during their meal and started searching amidst the mass of volumes gathered in the small room. Finally, she found one entitled "Jason and the Argonauts" and took it out delicately. It was not about the Minotaur but it was about legends nonetheless. She could always come looking for the other one sometime later. Quickly, she ran back up the stairs and closed the door behind her. As she did so, a picture fell out from the book and hit the ground with a small thud. She froze for a moment in her motion, waiting to see if her uncle had heard and would come to see if she was fast asleep, but no noise came. Sighing in relief, she crouched to pick up the fallen object and looked at it intently in the dim light of her bed lamp. It was the picture of a boy, perhaps slightly younger than her but she was not sure. He had a mass of slightly curled dark blue hair on his head and for an instant, the strangeness of that hue reminded her of Pierre. But unlike her friend, this boy had a merry smile of mischief across his face and blue eyes that seemed to be laughing. He seemed to be like a small being of fire, while Pierre had always been one of ice. She wondered who this boy could be, and flipped the picture over, to see if anything was written behind it which might give her some kind of clue. And surely enough, a few words were scribbled behind the little boy's photograph. Leaning closer to her lamp, Cora finally read:

"_Our beloved son Argos on his third birthday, the eighth of November, 1969."_

She wondered if this Argos was her cousin and what could have happened to him. But she had seen no evidence of Phryxus having had a married life. Perhaps his wife had divorced and left with their son. That would explain why he was ad all the time. Secretly, she promised herself never to ask questions about the boy on the picture and hid it in the drawer of her bedside table. She didn't know why, but having this picture near her reassured her. She didn't feel nervous anymore and chose to leave the reading for the next day. Closing her eyes, she fell into a deep sleep and when the next day arrived, flowers had bloomed in the villa's garden.


	4. The Two Visitors

Disclaimer : Saint Seiya doesn't belong to me, nor does any of the characters from it, may they be minor or major, who might be here stated. All mythological characters belong to the Greek culture. Only Claire and the plot of this story are mine.

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CHAPTER IV

THE TWO VISITORS

The years passed, and Cora grew to become a very beautiful young woman. Her hair had grown past her waist in long dark curls and her eyes had grown merrier than in the years of her youth. Her uncle, soon sensing her great potential for higher studies, had sent her to the best schools of the region and she had by know obtained her degree in the History of Greek antiquity.

Phryxus had meanwhile chosen to transform his villa into an inn which brought him great success as the weather in Tolo had grown to become milder than anywhere else in the region. Winter seemed to spare them most of the time and tourists had started coming to their secluded village. Other villagers had followed his lead, but the Inn of The Golden Fleece, as he had called it, remained the most prized for the beauty of its garden which was known throughout the whole peninsula of Peloponnese. He had not received any visits from Hermon in the past years and wondered often if he ought to be relieved or worried but of his thoughts, he never spoke. Cora would still catch him glancing towards the Cyclades when the day had ended, sadness often clouding his eyes but never did she dare speak of it with him. She would rather sit in silence behind him and wait, a silent figure watching over him from the shadows. Then, when he had become too tired to stay up any longer, he would retreat to his room and she to her own and each night before sleeping, she would take out the picture of little Argos and silently pray for him to return to Tolo and bring back Phryxus' smile.

It was then, on an evening of November 1985 that _they_ came to pass by their inn. The sun had already sunk behind the western mounts when Phryxus made his way to the main gate. The day had been quite still, as tourists rarely came at this time of year and the man had truly not expected to have costumers at such a late hour. Hearing the front bell, Cora ran to the kitchens to prepare somewhat of a dinner for their guests. As she was cooking, she felt a strange feeling of cold air coming through the kitchen window. She was not used to such cool weather, not in Tolo at least, and it was with somewhat of a slight annoyance that she closed the window and slipped on a white cardigan to shield herself from the cold. All the while, she felt her memories bring her back to the days of the orphanage where she had worn a quite similar white cardigan. She had worn it the day she had met Pierre, little blue haired Pierre that she had never seen again. She remembered how much she had hoped for him to hear about their little inn and to see him pass the main door, alone or with his hooded tutor, she didn't care. But each time she hoped, each time she saw her hopes shattered to nothing; and with time, she had come to accept she would never again meet up with her childhood friend. She had, of course, made new acquaintances in the last few years but none as special as Pierre had been. He had, after all, been a freak like her. She almost laughed at that thought. How much she would give just to see his face again like on the day of his birthday. How happy he had seemed!

She sighed as she finished mixing the squash puree. He must have been a grown man know, perhaps slightly taller than her, no more than one meter and ninety centimeters tall, long aquamarine hair, with a strange monk's robe. She bit her lip not to laugh at the thought. Pierre with a robe! Really, how ridiculous would that be! She realized she had never been able to picture him with short hair, she didn't know quite why. She supposed it was because she herself, had never had the courage to cut her own. Of course, she had to admit boys usually had their hair short, but that was not the point. She smiled sadly. She hoped he had at least managed to achieve what the ones who had come to take him had planned for him.

The voice of her uncle slightly startled her.

"Cora, do you need any help?" he asked.

"No, uncle. All is fine. But, weren't you supposed to attend to our guests?"

"Apollonius our door keeper is tending to them right now, you need not worry. They have just settled into their respective rooms and should be down for dinner any minute now."

"Their respective rooms? Tell me uncle, how many visitors do we have?"

"Only two, my dear niece," he chuckled soflty at her horrified expression. "Two men, to be precise. They each took a room for their own."

"Oh, I see."

She finished sorting the olives and the myzithra and went to place them upon one of the numerous dining tables. Apollonius had already set a table for two, arranging a few garden flowers so to brighten the atmosphere. As she was about to reach the kitchen, she heard voices and stopped to listen, carefully hiding from their sight. She could not distinguish their features from where she was, but she knew she would see their faces soon enough when the time to serve the main course arrived.

"This place is so peaceful," the first man said. "Just as I would imagine Elysion to be, without the mythological heroes roaming around of course."

The other man simply grunted and the other apparently dismissed it as a yes.

"It's a pity I haven't come any sooner," he continued, this time in a more regretful tone. "Everything here has truly changed."

"Difficult to say, if the last time you were here was as a child," the other said monotonously. "I hope you get to find those you are looking for as soon as possible. I do not wish to waste my time in hotels eating and sleeping more than a week."

"All will be fine, my friend. I'll find them soon enough, trust me!" This man seemed quite confident, as if nothing wrong could ever happen in the world, a true figure of hope and optimism.

The other, meanwhile, seemed more of a dark type, cold as ice and hard as steel. Once again, she tried to imagine Pierre with a similar voice but she was not quite sure the boy of her childhood would have evolved into such a stern and cold character. She liked to think he had become more sociable once in the company of others resembling him.

After a while, she decided to head back to the kitchen and wait for the moment to bring in the second appetizer before the main course. She had carefully prepared a few stuffed vine leaves and fresh tzatziki which she set on a tray along with a few loaves of pita bread, but as she was about to leave, Phryxus took it from her hands and left for the dining hall, without giving her a wink. She sighed at his antics and sat back on a stool, waiting for him to come back. After a few minutes, she started to wonder what took her uncle so long and was about to go fetch him when he suddenly entered the room, his face as white as clay. By the look on his face, he seemed to have just seen a ghost and looked ready to be sick. She quiclmy led him to a chair and waited a few minutes before speaking.

"Uncle what happened?"

She knew her words sounded shallow, even to her own ears, but she didn't know of a better way to ask him.

"I am fine, Cora… I just… Thought I recognized someone. It's … It's of no importance," he added quickly, trying to stop her from worrying. "I.. I can't… I mean… I need to rest for a while. Do you mind attending to our guests for the rest of the dinner?"

Cora assured him she didn't and waited a while longer before bringing the wine to the dining hall. In his haste, her uncle had not realized he had forgotten to bring the drinks.

On her way to the table, she wondered what could have possibly troubled her uncle so much. Had it something to do with the guests? She supposed it had, though for which reason, she did not quite know but she guessed she would find out soon enough.

As she reached the two guests' table, the first thing she saw was a set of long aquamarine hair. She started feeling her hands go sticky, her legs slightly shacking and the closer she got, she more she felt her heart beat quicken. She knew she ought to remain calm but she couldn't quite get past the hope that this mysterious stranger was Pierre. And then, she saw him. The other man, the one with the glint of joy in his voice. His hair was of a dark blue color, straining towards violet, and his eyes seemed to sparkle with laughter. She felt she knew this man, and momentarily forgot about the other traveler. It is only once she had reached the table that she finally realized from where she knew this face: the picture from the Argonauts!

"A… Argos!" She almost yelled.

The man, who had been looking quizzically at her when she had been making her way to their table and was by now completely baffled.

" I ... I am sorry sir, I was in no position to scream at your face like I have done," she excused herself miserably.

"I … hm … What brings you to call me by such a name?"

The man was clearly startled, but apparently not because of the name she had called him. It was, she realized, the fact that she, an utter stranger could call him by this name that seemed to truly trouble him. Finding a bit of courage from what was left of her assurance, she took out the picture from her pocket and handed it to him.

"I found this picture in one of my uncle's books. Please forgive me if I have caused you any offense but, I have the impression that you, and the little boy in this picture are the same person."

The man said nothing for a while and Cora felt as though she had just made a complete fool of herself until she noticed a tear in the corner of his eye.

"I knew it was you," she murmured, more for herself than anyone else in the room. She wondered how Phryxus would take the news, if he would be happy. She realized her uncle must have recognized his son when he had entered the dining hall but not dared to speak to him, in case he would have made a mistake but now that all mysteries were settled, she hoped he would fin joy in his reunion with his son.

"Well, Milo, it seems you have finally found what you had set out for." Cold, even, yet with a slight glint of 'joy' in it, the other man's voice caught her out of her reverie. She realized she had almost forgotten the other man present in the room.

"If you don't mind, Camus, I would like to stay here for a while. There is so much I need to cope up with now." The young man seemed about to break down completely and had she not been completely paralyzed, she would have tried to comfort him as best she could. Leed him to her uncle perhaps. But instead, she did nothing of the sort.

Camus. He had called the other man Camus. That meant he had nothing to do with her friend Pierre. And yet… Haden't this Camus just called Argos Milo? Could it be possible that Pierre would have changed his name as well? Because of the book? Suddenly, she found herself unable to hope any longer and turning around, she was met by a calm and serene face of someone not over eighteen with a fair complexion. His eyes matched the color of his hair and his bangs slightly fell in their way. He blinked as he took in her own face and she though she heard him whisper under his breath something in French.

It was at this precise moment that her strength decided to leave her as she fell into oblivion. Before all went black, she noticed the frightened faces of her two guests and murmured under her breath a single word:

"Pierre".


	5. Lies

Disclaimer : Saint Seiya doesn't belong to me, nor does any of the characters from it, may they be minor or major, who might be here stated. All mythological characters belong to the Greek culture. All OCs are mine, as well as the plot.

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CHAPTER V

LIES

When Cora awoke, she was lying in her bed, still fully dressed. She noticed a bit of light coming from the window and guessed it must have been barely past dawn. She remembered having had a strange dream in which Argos and Pierre had come to stay in their inn. She smiled inwardly. Of course, it was only a dream. How could Argos have known Pierre anyways, moreover come together precisely to their inn! She shook her head sadly, and sat up slightly so to rest her head on the bed's headpiece. Absentmindedly, she gazed outside the window to watch the sun rise from the sea, still half sleeping.

"Are you feeling better?"

The voice came from nowhere and caught her off guard, making her yell out in fright. She yelled once more again, but this time more out of surprise then fear when she saw the owner of the voice coming up to her in panic.

"No no no no no! Please, don't scream! I… I didn't mean to frighten you!"

The poor man seemed even more panicked than she was, waving his hands franticly in all directions like a madman. His blue eyes betrayed his anguish, and for a moment, Cora thought his hair would turn from deep blue to pure white out of sheer stress.

"Woh, woh, woh! Calm down! Calm down," she urged him, gesturing for him to stop agitating his arms aimlessly. "I am fine, really. You startled me is all."

The young man finally settled down and let himself fall on her bed with a sigh. She gave him a slightly annoyed look before taking in the fact that he was exactly the same boy from her dream which she had recognized as Argos. She started feeling dizzy again. Had it not been a dream after all?

"You frightened us to death, last evening! I had to fetch my fath… your uncle in haste so to bring you to your room! It is quite a night we have spent, watching over you", he said seriously.

"Where is Phryxus now?" she asked, seeing he was not in the room.

"I sent him to bed about an hour ago, after assuring him I would be keeping watch over you."

She nodded in understanding and let her head fall back upon the headpiece, now gazing absentmindedly at the ceiling. The young man seemed to think for a while before finally choosing to speak up again.

"I … Wanted to thank you, for the picture I mean," he added as she rose up again from her position to focus her entire attention on him. "I hadn't hoped to find my father so easily. I doubt he would have told me anything if you hadn't in fact, intervened," he finished, twisting his hands. "And… I was wondering… How were you able to recognize me anyways? My very own father wouldn't have recognized me on the spot! Or … Was it… sheer luck?"

She had not expected him to ask such a question. In fact, she hadn't even expected him to be real in the first place! And now that he was here, asking her how she had been able to recognize him, she found she had no constructed answer to give him.

"It … Well … It is the picture, I suppose which led me to recognize you," she finally said.

He seemed to consider this for a while, before speaking again.

"Yes, I had thought of this as well. But …what surprises me the most is that you called me by my birth name. Argos. That is a name only my parents knew. I was wondering… Did my father ever speak of me?"

He had deliberately used the word "father" so to make it clear Phryxus and himself had both acknowledged their true parentage. Cora realized he was looking at her with hope, and it pained her to know she would be the one to shatter it.

"I'm afraid he never has", she murmured, lowering her eyes. "Your name was written behind the photograph along with your date of birth."

He did not say a single word for a moment, and Cora was afraid she had truly disappointed him until he declared, flatly :

"That is what surprises me. You see, there was simply no name written behind the photograph you handed me."

This time, she blanched at his words. What? No name was written on the back of the picture, But, how could that ever be possible? She had seen it! She was sure that she had! Or was it because of her freakish powers? No, that could not be it. She could melt the ice down, but this! What sort of power would that ever be? No, there had to be some misunderstanding. There had to be! Perhaps the name had erased itself with the years. After all, she had not been very careful with it and had scarcely checked the back of it in the past few years. That must surely have been it!

She realized he was now looking at her with a slight suspicion in his eyes and she hurriedly answered to give her explanation.

"I'm sorry," she said with assurance. "The name has erased itself over the years; that is why you were unable to see it when I gave you the picture yesterday."

She forced herself to smile slightly so to assure him of her sincerity. She couldn't risk having her eventual cousin consider her like some sort of demon or diviner. The trick seemed to work for he soon relaxed, and answered her smile with a broad one of his own. He gave out a small laugh and let his gaze wonder out the window.

"So… I guess this all makes us cousins. Had I known I had a cousin before, I surely would never have left this home!" He smiled fondly, yet his eyes were sad, a sadness which, she thought, did not suit his joyous nature at all. It maid whatever sorrow he felt ever more painful. It was as though she could feel it flowing through her own blood. But soon, the gloominess left way to his natural cheerfulness as he turned his attention back on her.

"Shall we go down for breakfast?"

He outstretched his hand and she took gladly as he pulled her out of her bed. Together they came down the stairs without a word, content to be in each other's company, slowly taking in the other's presence as a new essential part of their past and future life. The truth was both finally felt the happiness of having a family to call his own, a family that went beyond only one living person on this planet.

In the dining hall, all had been carefully arranged for breakfast, but Cora was soon surprised to see the table dressed simply for two. Her uncle, she knew, never took a breakfast and was still probably resting from an over too long night watching at her side. It was the other young man which bothered her. Had he only been the fruit of her imagination?

Upon seeing her uneasiness, Argos declared:

"You must be wondering where my friend Camus has been," he said, still watching her intently has she looked at him in astonishment. "He left slightly after you fainted. He had some serious matter to attend back in Siberia, his homeland. Apparently something to do with his students. He left me this for you, though I do not know the reason why."

Cora carefully took the letter Argos was handing out to her, still looking at him questioningly.

"do not look at me like that:" he said, laughing. "I swear I haven't read or even opened it. Knowing how Camus is, he must probably have left a note to thank you for your hospitality and give his regrets for not being able to stay any longer. That's just the way he is. Always cold and uncaring, yet always sticking to good manners and protocol. Guess that has something to do with his Russian blood."

She nodded in understanding and quickly slid the envelope in her pocket. If she felt any sort of disappointment, she did not show it and Argos quickly dismissed the matter and started asking his newly found cousin about her life since she had arrived in Tolo. Both carefully avoided the subject about her life before coming to live with Phryxos, just as neither spoke of Argos' life after he had left his home fourteen years ago. Somehow, she realized, even if she felt as if she knew him already, he remained an utter mystery for her. They were soon interrupted by Phryxus' arrival and pretending an excuse, she left the room to give both the father and the son some privacy to catch up all the time they had lost together.

She still felt quite dizzy from all the commotion since yesterday evening and the story concerning the picture had been in her mind ever since Argos had mentioned it to her. She had no way of checking it now that the picture was no longer in her possession and she somehow felt glad it wasn't, for she had no idea how she would react should she still see Argos broadly written in its back. She sat on her bed and picked up the book lying beside her. She started flipping through the pages but soon found she was too tired to read through it any longer and chose to lie down a bit before joining the others in the dining hall.

Soft knocks on the door made her slip out of her dreams and back to reality. Still groggy with sleep, she rubbed her eyes and checked the time on the little alarm clock by her bed. It was already three in the afternoon! Dear goodness, how long had she been sleeping?

The person on the other side of the door repeated his knocks, this time in a more insisting manner than before

"Yes, I am awake!" she croaked, wincing at the terrible sound of her own voice. "Who is it?" she added, clearing her throat

"It is me, Mil… Argos. I was going to go out sailing. I wanted to know if you would care to join me?"

To go sailing? It had been ages since she'd ever set foot on a boat and she suddenly felt the urge to go wander upon the open sea again. She eagerly accepted and readied herself, slipping some new clothes on before leaving her room.

The air was warm, much warmer than it used to be during the early month of November and it was with true happiness that both of them took in the beauty of this moment. Cora soon realized Argos knew very well how to sail, sometimes daring to tip the ship o its edges, just to splash playfully her face to which she often answered him with a friendly punch in the ribs. Perhaps she didn't know much about this man, but one thing was for sure: she would never let anything happen to him as long as she was in a position to protect him. Though they were approximately the same age, she felt as though she were much older and stronger than him, without truly knowing from where this feeling came from.

The sun was already sinking low when they arrived back to their home, and Argos had to use his torchlight to find the little pier of the villa. Once they had set foot on fair ground, Cora spontaneously gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for this wonderful afternoon! You can't imagine how much this has meant for me!"

Sending him one last smile, she ran back to the house, adding from above her shoulder:

"See you for supper! I'll be taking a short shower beforehand! I really need it!"

If the sun had been up, she would have seen his face turn crimson as he set a hand upon his cheek where she had slightly touched it with her lips. What was going on with him? Was he starting to fall in love? No, no, that was clearly not it. It was… more and yet, less than that, something like a form of fascination and awe which he had only imagined feeling in the presence of the goddess. Who was she, really? He had forgotten many things about his childhood life in Tolo, but one thing was for sure: he remembered clearly his mother having had no close family and his father' only sister Helle had drowned when they were but children. Ha… He was thinking too much. Why couldn't he just pretend for once having a true family? He wished Camus had stayed. It would have perhaps helped him become a little bit more human to feel what the bounds of a family could do. He sighed and let his sweater slip off his shoulders. The air here was really warm; far too warm for a late autumn evening.

Meanwhile, Cora had finished washing up and was quietly sitting by her bed, her hair entwined in a towel, with the letter of Camus in her hands. Why had the man written to her? She knew she had mistaken him for Pierre the night before but Argos' statement concerning his Russian origins had finally ripped all of her hopes away. She ripped the envelope open carefully and started reading.

The handwriting was very elegant and flowing and seemed to have been written with utter care, where it should have been written in a rush. He had left for an emergency and still, he had managed to write a long letter for her? What a strange man.

" _Mademoiselle,_

_It is to my greatest regret that I have had to leave your welcoming inn as matters of great importance have called me back to my dwelling in Siberia. None the less, I believe this is perhaps for the best as I noticed my presence had greatly troubled you. I am afraid you have mistaken me for another, as I heard you whisper the name Pierre before you fell out of consciousness. Whoever this person might have been to you, he and I are in no circumstances related. I felt it better to tell you this rather than leaving you to hope in vain. My rightful name is Camus and has always been since my youngest age. It pains me to shatter all of your hopes but know I only do this in your sheer interest._

_I trust you will find a good and loyal cousin in the person of Milo and rejoice of your newly reconstructed family. Please, do take pleasure in the present moment and make the most of your reunion with your cousin. It is better not to linger on the past as it can only bring back painful memories. Turn to the future and forget to my very own existence as well as that of your friend. Violent emotions will only bring you troubles and sufferings in the future._

_I trust we will not meet again in this life. Do keep my regards as a final goodbye._

_Camus_

Cora could not stop herself from trembling, her tighten throat menacing to let the ears flow from her eyes any moment. He had dared, dared to write the first word in French. If he had seen so clearly through her, how could he have been so cruel?

She let out a cry of rage, thrusting the letter across the room and managing to break down the vase that had been set upon her desk. But she didn't care. She needed something to focus her anger on and as she found nothing, she started throwing pieces of furniture around the room. Taken over b her pain and rage, she did not even realize that tears had begun spilling freely from her eyes and that the wind had strangely grown stronger, forcing the windows open.

Down by the beach, Argos felt a sudden wave of energy pass through the house. It was a wave stronger than any he had felt until now and for a moment he thought he would be sick. Yet, the wave soon relinquished, replaced by a soft chill which had him shiver slightly. But the chill soon became cold, and from cold, it turned to freezing and by midnight, the flowers of the garden had all frozen to the very end of their roots.

"Whatever is happening?" Phryxus had asked, bewildered.

But Milo had no answer to give him.

Far away, in other countries around the globe, two men were silently contemplating the stillness of the sea. One was grinning and muttering something about the time being ripe. The other simply let a tear trickle down his cheek and murmured:

"It was my duty."


	6. Secrets Unfold

So sorry for the long wait! : ( I promise the next chapters will not so long to get written and posted! I suffered from a bad writer's block as this is the turning point of the story :) I hope it was worth while at least ;)

I'll try posting at least two chapters every week ;) And, next chapter should be up tomorrow :D

Some spin offs from this story should also appear soon.

Hope you will enjoy this chapter :D

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CHAPTER VI

SECRETS UNFOLD

Cora wondered where she was. She was running, aimlessly in no direction across an endless fog. She had no memory of what had brought her to this place, nor why she kept on walking. All she remembered was reading Camus' letter, then darkness. She clenched her teeth. Camus… She didn't know why she hated him so much. The man had, after all, only been honest with her by admitting he was not the one she had thought. Still, he had deliberately addressed her in French and for this, she could not forgive him.

Pierre… Oh Pierre. She would not forget him. No matter how much she would try, his memory would die along with her. He had been her only true friend, the only one she had cared so much about. This Camus was presuming too much. Of what right did he believe he could give her such orders?

She gave out another cry of rage, as if to free herself from this gnawing feeling of pain and despair, sliding softly to the ground in the process. She felt the warmth of her tears trickle down her cheeks and she did not even bother to wipe them away with the back of her hand. The ground was cold and hard against her legs and only then did she realize that the floor was made of solid marble. Slowly, the fog started to thin until barely any of it was left and Cora realized she was standing in an alley way lined with large open doors in an ancient Greek style. Slowly her tears faded and she tried to regain her composure. It was no use crying over a few words an utter stranger had written to her. In truth, she realized, it did not affect her one bit. What use was there, giving so much importance to such trivial things?

Suddenly, she heard someone walk firmly across the hall from behind her, but she did not have the time to spin around before the stranger chose to speak up.

"What is a mortal doing in my lair?" The voice was aggressive, making her jump to her feet.

"I am not used to being disturbed," it continued, "namely by one as insignificant as a mortal. I do not know how you have managed to come here but you shall go no further."

Cora quickly spun around, ready to explain she had by no means wanted to intrude in his domain but when she saw him, nothing wanted to come out of her mouth any longer. She was completely stunned. The man was wearing a type of armor as dark as night, decorated with what seemed to be like violet peacock feathers. So astonished was she that she did not seize the chance to avoid his attack and barely had the time to raise her arms in front of her face as a bright light came into her direction, knowing such a movement was totally useless. She wondered briefly what it would be like to die and felt a queer thrilling feeling at the thought of it. She could feel her fear was still present, and she would have yelled had it been strong enough but this strange thrill seemed to have taken the best of her.

A long moment seemed to pass before she finally opened her eyes again, realizing that she was still whole and unscathed. She risked a quick look at her surroundings and almost jumped in surprise as she saw her attacker kneeling before her, his eyes cast down as if not daring to look upon her. His hair was long and fair she realized, although quite spiky and unreal. The whole situation would have been laughable had the young man not tried to kill her a few minutes before hand. The thrill she had felt during the attack seemed to have left her completely and it was with unease that she finally addressed herself to her aggressor.

"Please," she said, twisting her hands in discomfort, "do stand up, you have no need to be kneeling before me. If you regret attacking me, know there is no need for you to kneel before me in forgiveness. I am whole and unscathed."

The young man seemed to shiver as she spoke and cast his eyes even lower, if it were even possible in the position he had taken already.

"I am afraid I am unforgivable for having attacked you, my lady," he whispered, his voice full of remorse. "Centuries ago, I vowed to protect you with my life and pledged allegiance to thee and thy royal husband. Truly, your highness, I do not deserve your pardon. Therefore I beg of thee to kill me swiftly."

Cora felt her hair rise in the back of her neck as she heard the young man's speech. He had called her a queen? Surely he must have mistaken her for someone else.

"I.. I am sorry," she stammered, " But you must be mistaken. I am no queen, moreover YOUR queen."

The young man seemed to pounder this for a while, before raising his head to look her in the eyes.

"I am afraid there is no mistake, your highness, for there is no one on earth who may stop my attack with the mere shield of his arms in the realm of the dead apart from the Emperor of the Shadows and his queen. Even Lady Pandora could not have withstood my attack."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm afraid I am truly no queen. I am but a mere French girl, living in a remote village of Greece!"

He gazed at her more intently, though this time with incomprehension in his eyes.

"But… Could this mean… Your soul has not awoken completely yet? Could it be that you ignore who you truly are? But surely… Your presence here means you are planning of returning to us."

He looked at her hopefully and before she could argue any further, he had taken up speaking again.

"Your highness must pardon my boldness but… After thousands of years, your presence here has been direly missed. Lady Pandora has taken much power, too much power in fact, for my liking. She seems to believe she is our new goddess when she is not. To follow her orders, your highness, is a real torture to me, Hypnos, and my brother Thanatos. You must not let her take your place! She cannot expect once more to be the voice of our Master when only you can understand the heart and mind of our King, Lady Persephone."

Persephone… He had called her Persephone! Why did this name seem strangely familiar? She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and started to feel her legs tremble. Wait! He had named himself Hypnos hadn't he? Why were all these names familiar and why was she feeling so strange suddenly?

The young man noticed her unease and came quickly to her side, grabbing her just in time so she would not hit the ground.

"Your Highness, you are very pale. Is everything all right? Are you unwell? Is there anything I might do to help soothe your unease?"

Hypnos was clearly panicked, trying by any means to help the one he took for his long lost Empress, but Cora did not wish to burden him any further. All she wanted for the moment was to return to her house, safely in Tolo where she might try to forget all of this strange situation, hoping it had only been but a dream.

" I am fine, " she managed to say faintly, risking a smile as best she could, though she guessed it must have been more of a crooked grin than anything else. "I must not have eaten well enough today is all."

Hypnos' eyes filled with disbelief and half of horror.

"Your Higness, you must not mock me! Surely you cannot have hoped to be fed well enough with mortal food! It is a chance I always have these pomegranate seeds on me. They will help you feel better, I am sure!"

Cora sighed inwardly as the young man took out a small pouch of dark velvet from his pocket and handed it to her. She did not dare disappoint him, but she feared a simple seed would be far from feeding her the slightest bit. Yet, his warm smile and genuine look in the eyes made her want to trust him, even though her had already tried to kill her but moments ago. She took the pouch and sat the cord it was attached to around her neck before giving him back his smile.

"Thank you", she said, as she tried to rise up to her feet. "I shall you use them once I am well enough to eat. Right now I fear my previous dizziness has left my stomach in quite a revolution."

Hypnos smiled at this and held out his hand.

"It seems now that you are here, your Highness, you shall be my guest. It is at least, the best I can do after dishonoring myself in attacking you willingly."

The look in his eyes was sad, despite the smile he had upon his fair face and she bit her lip in frustration, knowing she was the cause of it. Of course, she had not forgotten the rage with which he had attacked her, and because of this, she would never truly trust him nor take any of his words for granted; But after all, she had come out of it unscathed and there was no need for him to make such a fuss about it. She knew he mistook her for his Goddess and this pained her the most. If Gods and Goddesses truly existed, than she hoped his true Empress would come take her role as soon as possible and guide him in his duty; But, if as she thought, gods were but the pure product of Man's imagination, than she feared he would have to wait long indeed for his wish to be fulfilled. Then again … who could pretend Gods did not exist when one had seen a child freeze flowers on the spot or seen a man hurl down an attack of sheer light to kill? Indeed, who was she to doubt their existence?

And for the first time in years, Cora felt both unsure and scared of what the future truly held for her.

It was a distant sound, almost like that of a human voice that withdrew her from her reverie.

"Cora! Cora! Wake up!"

It seemed far and distant, as if coming from a dream, though she was not capable of recognizing the voice's owner. She felt as though she should have known, and heeded to that call but her body seemed to think otherwise, leading her further and further down a path she did not know. Hypnos sent her a look of concern, feeling her grip tighten around his hand, but she reassured him with a small smile and continued her walk down the strange alleyway.

"Cora! Cora! Oh dear, doctor! Is she lost to us?"

The same voice again, this time frantic, as if drowned under tears, being too long held back. This time, she stopped dead in her tracks and loosened her grip upon the blond head's fingers.

"My Lady, is everything all right? Perhaps you should eat now, heedless of your stomach's protests."

Hypnos seemed now truly concerned and almost ready to snatch her off the ground and run, to wherever his destination might be, but Cora was no longer paying attention to him.

" Move over, young man. I will take care of this."

Another voice this time, more mature and sure of himself. There seemed to be silence again and Cora made way to take Hypnos' hand once more. She was not to fulfill her action however, as a powerful ray of light came to separate her from her host.

" Your Highness!"

She could hear the young man's screams and could not help but muse as to how ironic the situation was. The man who had tried to kill her at their first encounter was now trying to save her! How ironic indeed…

*******

It was long past midnight when she finally came back to her senses. The moon still shone outside and a small fire had been lit in the chimney at the back of the room. A young man was sleeping on the armchair next to her bed, his deep blue hair dangling, unkempt, over his eyes. She thought she knew him, but all her memories seemed blurred out and all she could remember was Hypnos' distraught eyes and him calling her Persephone.

Persephone…

Why was the name so familiar? Surely there must be an explanation to all this.

As she rested her hand upon her brest, she felt a strange object resting there and brought it to her face to better examine it. Only then did she remember Hypnos giving her this pouch of seeds. She looked at it with curiosity. The dream had after all, not been a dream, she realized. Slowly she opened the pouch, curious to see what those seeds might taste like. She wasn't against a bit of food after all this commotion she'd been through.

"Do not eat any of these," a voice hissed as a firm hand gripped her wrist in warning.

Cora almost yelped but another hand gently pressed against her mouth stopped her scream dead in her throat. Once the man was sure she would not risk yelling again, he relaxed his grip upon her and gently took the pouch away. Cora then tried to identify this new figure and found she could not correctly make out the man's features, as though they were shrouded by a large hood. Realizing she was staring at him, the man gently huffed before whispering for her only:

"I am Hermon, the one who has ripped you away from the halls of Hypnos. I am someone who was granted special powers at birth, like you, and I have come to take you to a safe place where you may learn to master your powers which seem to have greatly grown since last I heard from you."

"Since last you heard of me?" she whispered back, incredulously. "What do you mean since last you heard of me? I have never met you before in my life time. And of what powers do you speack? Surey you must know such things as super powers do not exist!"

She was starting to be annoyed with this man; Who was he to intrude in her life like this? And somehow she felt that had she eaten one of these seeds or followed Hypnos further into his realm, she would have learned much more about herself and be granted further knowledge which she here, would never have.

"You seem frustrated, that is of course normal after such an encounter as the one you have had with Hypnos, god of the dream realm."

Again this voice, sure of himself. She gave him an all too annoyed glance before drifting her eyes away.

" Hypnos is not someone to be taken lightly. You were lucky enough to survive, young lady. As for the powers which you seem to mock, might I remind you of a certain event which took place in the South of France, away in an old orphanage near codognan? An incident with a young boy named… Pierre… If I am not mistaken?"

This time he had caught her whole attention as she looked at him in sheer horror and disbelief.

"Rest assured," he reassured her, "I have not spoken of this to anyone, nor will I in any near future. I am one who seeks out people with such powers and offers them a training in order for them to use this ability for good of course and put oneself at the service of all mankind. The most important rank of powerful order is that of the Goddess Athena, protector of Earth, although Poseidon is known to have one as well of equal power."

Greek gods again. What was it all about? Had all these people gone mad?

Then she remembered. Hypnos had also been a god of the Greek pantheon and the one who had claimed to be this deity had spoken to her of the Emperor of the Shadows. The one supposed to be her husband…

"And what of Hades," she asked, "Does he posses such an army as well?"

She thought she felt the man tense slightly, yet his answer was void of any discomfort he might have felt.

" He is said to have an army, yes. But not much that I know of apart from Hypnos which you have met, and Thanatos, his twin brother."

"Hypnos also spoke of a lady Pandora. Do you know her?"

"There is much said about Pandora and yet, little to be known. I will not speak of her now for there is no point in you knowing more about her."

"Oh but there is! Hypnos has called me Persephone, Hades' known wife."

"And what do you make of this?"

His question had been asked coolly, though Cora felt he would not suffer the absence of an answer.

"I…" she seemed to pounder a while. She actually did not know what to make of Hypnos' revelation. Only one thing seemed sure to her and there was no risk in sharing it with her new acquaintance. "I believe he was mistaken. If I were a goddess, I surely would have felt it by now. Moreover, the goddess of hell!" She gave a small laugh and the boy in the armchair next to her stirred in his sleep.

Hermon made sign for her to speak lower which she immediately did, afraid to wake up anyone else who might be in her room.

"I believe you should take some rest, young lady. Tomorrow I shall take you on a journey to somewhere where you may remain safe and begin your learning."

He made move to leave but she managed to grab his sleave before he had gone past her reach.

"Wait!" she begged. "You have not told me whom you work for. Is it for Athena's sake, or Poseidon's?"

"Neither", he answered without turning back. " I will teach you how to become a healer of this earth and its inhabitants but I will not chain you to the service of one deity or the other."

Before she could reply once more, he had left her and she remained alone in her bed, watching sleepily the man resting near her bed. Slowly she drifted back into an uneasy sleep. Her dreams were filled with cries of terror, clashes of swords and the beauty of a huge garden towering above all these horrors. That is when she saw him: a young man with amethyst eyes and elegant brown curls. In the dream, he handed her a lily of pure white and whispered in her ear:

"I will always love you, my queen."

Unbeknost to her was the young man watching over her, his deep blue eyes filled with anxiety. The man who had so willingly helped them bring Cora back to consciousness had been most clear with him and under no circumstances was he willing to disobey, although the whole situation was beginning to scare the hell out of him.

"Watch over her, Scorpio Saint of Athena, for Athena's destiny and yours lie in the preserving of her innocence."

Milo was perhaps not as bright as some of his friends in Sanctuary but he knew how to recognize a valuable suggestion and order when he had one and so watch over his cousin was what he would do. No matter how many hours of sleep it would cost him.

******

In the deepest of darkness that no man has yet trodden alive, two lone figures were discussing animatedly.

"Are you quite sure of what you are saying?"

"Aye, there can be no mistake."

"Then you must watch out for this Adonis, for he too has surely returned amongst the living ere we speak."

"Do not worry about him. He shall not be of a great concern to us for the time being. I have thought… Of a greater use for him in our plans."

"Oh.. I see. And pray tell, what is that plan?"

The other shadow simply laughed, a laugh deprived of all form of humanity and his companion felt his hair rise up his spine in a sheer thrill of joy.


	7. Siberia

Sorry for the time this took again, I was on holidays and did not have the internet there!

Thanks for all those who have reviewed up to now and all the others who have come to read this story, please don't hesitate to leave a little word ^^!

Chapter VIII and IX should normally be on line during the week. I am currently working on another story which is linked to this one (same universe  ) which should be up soon as well. Until then, I hope you will enjoy this new chapter! 

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CHAPTER VII

SIBERIA

The next day, Cora was awoken before dawn. The man that went by the name of Hermon had already taken the liberty to prepare her belongings for the long journey which was awaiting her. All her memories seemed to have returned to her and she had no remembrance of having forgotten her cousin's name. Neither of them spoke of the incident of the night before and even her uncle seemed to avoid staying too long in her presence, as if fearing to say something he would later regret. She was not taking much, just a pair of shoes and two dresses she was used to wearing, though she did not know yet if she would be needing them.

"Cora?"

The girl quickly spun around, meeting her cousin's sorrowful face.

"Yes, Argos?" She answered gently, as if to sooth his anguish.

For only answer, he took her into a warm and strong embrace, keeping her close to his chest. If she was surprised by his gesture, she did not show it and simply gave him the hug back.

"Promise to take care of yourself," he whispered in her ear as he was still holding tight to her. " What happened to you last night still sends chills up my spine. Had not this man been present, you might have been lost forever! I… I do not want you to die on me, Cora. So take care, wherever you may be going."

He gave her a final squeeze before letting her go, and taking a few paces backwards. She gave him a reassuring smile, and simply said:

"I will, Argos. I will let nothing come upon me, I promise."

Her stature seemed suddenly to have grown, and Milo felt like shrinking behind an armchair for safety. From where had she gotten so much countenance? It was almost frightening. Yet, when he gazed upon her again, she had regained her normal composure. She smiled at him one last time before turning her back on him, letting Hermon lead the way to she knew not which destination. She found she had not had the chance to bid her uncle farewell and felt uneasy about it, but seeing how eager Hermon was to leave the village behind, she did not dare ask for the permission to return to the house.

Milo didn't know how long he stood by the main gates, watching them disappear in the pale light of the morning but it was not until Phryxus laid a hand on his shoulder that he realized they had been gone since a very long time. The sun was already high on the horizon and the warmth of its rays had begun to melt the frost from the previous evening. The weather was becoming more pleasant though not as warm as it had been on his arrival. It simply seemed to have returned to its normal weather cycle, neither too warm nor too cold, just plain agreeable. Milo slowly lowered his gaze, taking in the dew now covering his shoes and absentmindedly brushing it away against his legs before facing his father. Phryxus' gaze was warm but Milo soon felt as though his father was truly upset about something. He avoided mentioning it though, and waited for his father to speak about it himself. This, however, did not take long as Phryxus took out a small piece of paper from his pocket and made sign for his son to sit beside him on the bench facing the sea. For a while, both men remained silent, until Milo finally spoke up.

"I am concerned about Cora's departure," he carefully said, eying Phryxus discreetly. "I wonder if she will truly be safe with that man and where he is taking her."

His concern was earnest, although his true concern was focused on finding out what could have caused such a reaction upon his cousin.

Phryxus remained silent still for a while before choosing to speak up.

"You may trust Hermon, Milo, he will take good care of her," he said, flatly, before continuing. "My true concern lies in this."

On this, he handed his son the small piece of paper he had been holding in his hands and waited expectedly for him to read it.

Milo had been surprised by his father using his official name to address him but found it not the appropriate time to question him on the subject and taking the paper from him, he began to read:

" _Mademoiselle,_

_It is to my greatest regret that I have had to leave your welcoming inn as matters of great importance have called me back to my dwelling in Siberia. None the less, I believe this is perhaps for the best as I noticed my presence had greatly troubled you. I am afraid you have mistaken me for another, as I heard you whisper the name Pierre before you fell out of consciousness. Whoever this person might have been to you, he and I are in no circumstances related. I felt it better to tell you this rather than leaving you to hope in vain. My rightful name is Camus and has always been since my youngest age. It pains me to shatter all of your hopes but know I only do this in……."_

At once, Milo understood this was the letter from Camus he had given Cora on the previous day and realized that she must have read it just after their little excursion on the sea. His father must have laid hands upon it while tidying the room after her departure. Somehow he guessed this had something to do with what had befallen his cousin the night before but he could not yet find the reason why. What he could not understand was also why Camus had written the first words of his letter in French. By reading this, he had the impression of intruding into both his friend's and his cousin's intimacy and it made him feel uncomfortable. He had made out since a long time ago that Camus was hiding much from his past from him and until today, this had never seemed as a trouble for him. After all, all of them had to have a part of secrecy in their lives. His thoughts went to Shaka, the Virgo Saint, of whom they knew nothing apart that he was said to converse with the Buddha himself, or of the mysterious Libra Saint of whom they knew actually nothing. Compared to them, Camus was like an open book for him and yet, not opened enough that he might make out the meaning of this letter by himself. It seemed as though he had written this only for one person to comprehend.

And suddenly, it downed upon him.

"They knew each other, did they not?"

It was more of a statement than a question, but Phryxus answered it none the less.

"Indeed, that is what I believe," he whispered, passing a hand upon his tired eyes. "But please, do tell me, what else do you make out of this letter?"

Milo hesitated before speaking again. He did not know how much he could reveal to his father and chose to read once more the letter as to hide his unease. He remembered Camus had occasionally told him he was not originally from Siberia but that he liked people to believe it was so. It made the memories more bearable, he had told him, as he had questioned him on the reason of such a choice. Though Camus had never told him anything of his true origins, Milo guessed from the letter that he must have indeed been French and not Russian. And if he had slipped back into his mother tongue at the beginning of his letter, it could only mean one thing: his friend had been clearly troubled.

Rapidly, he tried remembering all of Camus' reactions after Cora had fainted just before their eyes. Everything had gone quite rapidly. He had run to the kitchens to fetch his father while Camus had stayed by Cora's side until their prompt return. They had then hurriedly taken her up into her room and he had offered to keep watch upon her later in the evening. Phryxus had simply nodded, clearly not listening to him and he had left the room alongside Camus. His friend had then declared he had some urgent business to attend to in Siberia. Something to do with his students, he had said, though Milo had not truly believed him. He had then seated himself at a table and begun writing a letter which he had given him before leaving. Camus had been clearly upset about something, his eyes almost showing signs of fear, guilt and remorse, he had not been quite sure himself, but he had thought this was all due to the problems his students were facing in Siberia. Now, he was not quite sure any longer. Could it have had something to do with his cousin, or was the French at the beginning of his letter also the result of his anxiety for his students? Still, the words from the letter were harsh, something he had not been used to with Camus, mostly towards someone he was supposed not to be acquainted with. And the more he thought about it, the less he seemed to understand the situation. He knew he was close to reaching the answer but somehow, it seemed to prefer slipping between his fingers, refusing to reveal itself to him.

And there was this Pierre. Who could it have been? Clearly someone which had meant a lot to his cousin but he did not remember hearing her whisper that name as she had fainted. He remembered though that Camus had mumbled something under his breath in a language he did not understand. Something like "… Ce n'est pas possible!" or the sort, he was not quite sure.

He sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

"All I can say, is that although he has never clearly told me anything, I am now quite sure that Camus' origins were not Russian but French. As for this Pierre, it remains a mystery to me. I do not even remember Cora saying anything of the kind before fainting but then again, I was not really listening either."

Phryxus nodded, and Milo wondered if his answers had disappointed him or if he had simply wanted to make sure his own deductions were the same as that of his son.

"You see," he finally said, looking in the distance, "when I discovered your cousin's existence, she was in an orphanage, in the south of France. She had no friends there except a queer young boy named Pierre with strange unkempt aquamarine hair. The day I came to fetch your cousin, this Pierre also left the orphanage and I was able to meet him, though only briefly. And I can tell you that the man who came to take him away was the same as the one who came for you here in Tolo when you were barely three."

At this, Milo slightly shivered but chose not to intervene just yet in his father's revelations.

" Cora often spoke of him when she was younger. Every day, she would stand by the main gate from morning to night, expecting for him to come visit, but he never came. At first, I even feared she would starve herself to death, waiting all day long before the door and refusing to eat anything. Then, with time, she would spend less and less time before the gates, not daring to hope any longer; but she never forgot him. From time to time, she would confide in me and speak about him. I know she missed him dearly but what could I do? The child could have died in training for all I knew. Even I dared not hope to see you again one day."

He smiled fondly at his son before choosing to continue.

" I do not know what became of Pierre, but I must admit your friend matched the memory I had of the child almost to the perfection."

There was a long silence between the two men. Milo was starting to find that the more he thought about it, the more he realized he knew almost nothing of the one he considered as his best friend. For all he knew, Camus could indeed be this Pierre who had been a childhood friend of Cora's. And if that was the case, why would he have rejected her in such a rude manner? Dear goddess, what was all the meaning of this?

Suddenly, his father got up from his seat and set both of his hands on his shoulders as he rose almost instinctively when the older man had done so.

"I cannot keep you here any longer, Milo," he said, hi jaws tight. " You are a saint of Athena now, I gather. You will be needed soon in Sanctuary, I know. And you might want to take care of other things before doing so."

He eyed suggestively the letter still in his hands and ran back into the house, not wanting to show his son his dismay.

At first, Milo was too stunned to make any kind of move and thought of calling his father back but finally reasoned himself. Phryxus was right, he had other obligations to attend to and right now, it was the mystery of this letter which needed solving. He had to leave as soon as possible and he knew now that his destination would be Siberia. He had only one week left off duty and he wasn't planning on wasting any of that precious time.

_Ten__ months Later_

Cora awoke early this morning, though the sky outside was still dark. It had been almost five months now that she had settled in one of the most remote villages of Siberia as a healer. Hermon had told her this was for the best as she needed to practice her skills as best she could for the time being. She still could not understand why he had chosen to bring her in one of the coldest regions of the world and often longed for the time when she still lived in Tolo. Most of the days here were dull and lacked any form of surprise or originality and she sometimes wished for something to disturb her far too tranquil every day routine.

She rose from her bed and went to prepare breakfast. She had not seen Hermon in months and wondered what kept the medic so far from what he called his home land. He had from time to time spoken of some important mission which he was meant to fulfill if this world was to be preserved, or so were the words he had used to explain his frequent departures. She did not quite understand what all these secrecies were about but she guessed that Hermon was not telling her everything. She had since long supposed he was a man of far greater importance than a medic trainer but to what extent, she did not know. He had spoken to her about the power of Cosmo and what it could be used for and it was with this inner energy that she had learned to counter epidemics and heal people's various injuries. Hermon had once said that she had the power to surpass all known healers he had been gifted to meet and train in his lifetime. Of this, she was rather proud and she hoped to soon be allowed to leave these deserted lands and offer her services to the greater parts of the world.

She often wondered what had become of Argos, or should she say: Milo, and of her uncle Phryxus. All this seemed sometimes so far away from her that she wondered if it truly had been part of her life at all. As for her encounter with Hypnos, she had chosen to forsake it utterly though she had kept the seeds of the pomegranate in a small pouch which she took with her wherever she would go. She did not know quite why she cared so much about these seeds but as long as she didn't eat any of them, she did not see the arm in keeping them with her.

Just as she was about to take a seat and savor her meal, a soft knock came from the hall. She hesitated for a second and finally chose to open.

Her visitor was no other than her little neighbor, a young boy of approximately five years old who went by the name of Yakoff. She was used to the little boy's frequent visits and had often invited him over for a cup of hot chocolate but never had he come to her at such an early hour in the morning. The child seemed agitated, as if something was worrying him and she rapidly made sign for him to come in rest by the fire. But to her surprise, the child refused.

" It cannot wait, m'lady Cora!" he cried, agitating his little arms in despair. "One of my friends, who lives far from the village, fell in the frozen lake two days ago. Normally, he's used to diving and swimming into very cold water but this time, something went wrong. I don't know what happened but when I came to visit this morning he was very pale and burning! I think he's got fever. He can't even get up to eat!"

As he was talking, the young healer had put on one of her warmest cloaks and a pair of warm fur boots. She was already outside when the boy finished his explanation and readying a small sleight pulled by a group of six huskies.

"Come on," she urged, as she led the little boy forward. "You will show me the way."

The child nodded his agreement and did as he was told, climbing in front of the sleight so to give her better directions.

"Do you know how to drive these things?" she asked him, as they were riding across the frozen tundra.

Yakoff made a head sign which she interpreted as a "not really" and sighed slightly.

"If your friend is truly very ill, I might have to stay for more than a day. I will ask Drake, my head husky, to guide you and the sleight back to the village. Do not worry," she continued as she saw the child's dismay, " Drake is well trained, he will know how to take you home even if you, do not know the way."

This seemed to reassure the child a bit and nothing more than directions were exchanged afterwards until they came in sight of a small hut, which the child declared to be the house of his friend.

"Tell me," she asked as they were pulling closer to the small shack, "does your friend live alone?"

The boy shook his head.

"He lives with his master and another boy. But I never met him. It think he left some time ago but I'm not sure why. His master's not here often, that's why he's all alone right now."

The boy lived with his master in this completely forsaken place? Strange. Could he be a trainee for one of those armies Hermon had spoken to her about? And if that was the case, was it for Athena, Poseidon or Hades' cause?

She decided to pull the sleight near the western wall of the small edifice so to protect it from the eastern wind that often blew in these bare lands and helped the child dismount. The house, she noted, was not very big. In fact, it was barely the size of a house for three to four people maximum, with a large chimney in the main room. Two other fireplaces, of a smaller size, had been made in both bedrooms while the bathroom remained unheated. Yet, the place had been decorated with taste, though with little money and she found she felt perhaps more at ease in this little habitation than in her more comfortable mansion in the nearby village.

Meanwhile, Yakoff had managed to lead her to the bedside of his friend, clearly deeply concerned, and Cora soon found she shared the child's anxiety. The boy lying in the bed could not have been more than twelve and his fair complexion betrayed his Russian heritage. He seemed to be in a deep sleep but Cora was sure this seemingly peaceful sleep was only hiding a long agony of hallucinations caused by a high fever. Even with her abilities, she knew the boy would be lucky if he survived.

"Yakoff", she managed to say in an even tone so not to alarm the child, "I need you to return to the village. You will be of no help for me here and I need to stay at least for a few days at your friend's side. Do not worry for me, I have seen the cellar is quite full and I will not need any food until at least two weeks. Drake will see you safely home."

She gave him a reassuring smile, hoping the child would be naïve enough to believe his friend would soon be out of danger. She accompanied him to the sleight and once she was sure he was comfortably settled, she gave Drake a few orders and let the little company leave her to what would be her home for a least a week.

She sincerely hoped the boy would come out of it alive but deep down, she knew his chances were scarce. But, as it was not in her nature to give up so easily, she took it upon herself to save that boy's life whatever the cost. During four days, she tended to the boy's health, burning her cosmos to an extent she had never before experienced and though the boy's condition seemed to stabilize itself, she on the other end, was starting to feel the effects of her burning energy. For four days, she neither slept nor ate a single thing, barely taking the time for herself when necessary and after four days of battling against the disease, the child's condition begun to improve. Seeing as her constant presence was no longer required, she decided to take a little rest and replenish her energy. The boy was not yet fully healed but seemed at least out of any danger for the time being.

She slipped into the kitchen and made herself a cup of strong coffee. Though she hadn't eaten much in four days, she found she wasn't really hungry and chose to settle herself down upon the couch in the main room. She had noticed a small library there and hoped to find a nice book to read before allowing herself a bit of rest. There weren't many books there but what surprised her the most was that they were all in French. Now, that was definitely not something she had been expecting. Most of them were the works of classical authors such as Rabelais, Corneille or even Baudelaire. She finally chose to read "Les Chants de Maldorore" of Lautréamont, keeping in mind that she was lucky to have been brought up in a French speaking country when she was younger. Outside, she could hear the wind blowing, its regular movements luring her to sleep and before she knew it, she had fallen into deep slumber without dreams.

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	8. What Fate Has Bound

**CHAPTER VIII**

**WHAT FATE HAS BOUND**

Sorry for the long wait. This chapter came out to be more difficult than I though. Too much emotions to put up with ^^ It's not easy to write emotions, especially if you do not wish to fall into old fashioned clichés. I hope I managed to avoid that :/

Thanks to all those who have been following this story until now! Chapter IX is for tomorrow, and this time it is a promise as I have already started it ;)

To all who are keeping up with this tale, do not hesitate to review ;) and a huge thank you to Yukitarina who has been reading my story since the beginning! :)

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Night was still in its deepest hours when someone made his way up to the little shack. The storm outside had not relinquished, making the shutters rattle against the fragile window frames, threatening to break them. The figure managed to grope its way up to the main door and in a final effort, he unlocked the door and slipped into the small house's main room.

The fire was still burning faintly in the hearth, making it possible for the figure to roughly discern his surroundings. Seeing as someone was sleeping on the sofa, he chose not to lit a candle, and grinned slightly. Slowly, he unfastened his fur hood and let it drop on the nearest armchair, revealing the stature of a man not over his twentieth year. A mass of long aquamarine hair flowed free from his hood, dangling down his shoulders in an elegant movement. The man puffed in his hands a few times before finally deciding to warm them over the dwindling fire. He seemed exhausted though a strange coldness seemed to linger in his eyes, a freezing sensation where fire ought to have been. The man passed his hand over his forehead and made way for his cloak, fumbling into his right hand pocket as if searching for something. Soon, he found himself in the possession of an old book, all torn in its corners and clearly in use for a very long time. He gazed at it fondly as a cloud seemed to pass over his eyes. On its cover brightly written in bold letters, he could still discern the name of the author; the only writings on the front cover which time had seemed to spare. It was truly ironic, he thought to himself, that of all things this name should still torture him as in his eldest dreams.

He sighed, tightening his grip on the small volume and seemed to consider for a while throwing it into the fire. After all, he would not be needing it where he was soon to be going. Nothing would go with him, and nothing ought to remain. He had managed to remain a full secret to all of those he had met in his life, even his own best friend, and he had done so in order to preserve them. To preserve them from what was coming for him. He had seen what sufferings and losses could do to a human being. Oh yes, he had seen it too often to forget it. And in the end, there had been nothing he could do about it.

He closed his eyes, trying to prevent the memories from overwhelming him. Even in his rare dreams he would see them. The forsaken Saint and the one unjustly sentenced to death. They would come at night and accuse him for his passivity, for his silence, for his carelessness, for his lack of feelings, for lying to himself and to those he loved in the process. But in the end, among all those accusations, they would still accept him as a brother and that was what perhaps hurt the most. To be loved and have no love to offer in return. No. He shook his head. That was not the truth. The truth was, he wished for no one to care for him. It had only brought sufferings in the past, to him, and to those that had taken interest in him during his childhood.

Reaching for the armchair on which he had left his cloak, he settled himself there and lost his gaze into the dying flames of the fire. Slowly he found himself lingering on old memories again. Thirteen years ago, day for day, he had stood in front of a similar fire, though then, he had not been alone and bitter as he was now. Back then, he had been young and full of hopes. If only he had known what would be awaiting him, perhaps he would not have been so cheerful then. He smiled bitterly. That scene was still so vivid in his memories, as it always was on the anniversary of these events.

" _I heard about your success in claiming the gold cloth of Aquarius today. Congratulations!"_

_The one who had spoken these words smiled at the young boy standing in front of him as he handed him and another lad his age a cup of hot chocolate. The two boys had smiled brightly and both began to drink eagerly the sweet tasting drink. The boy the man had first addressed finally rose his head from his cup, a large grin upon his lips._

"_You are truly the king of hot chocolate, Aioros. It tastes just as sweet as in France."_

_The man laughed at the comment and laid a hand on the boys head, ruffling his hair. _

"_Sometimes I wonder why you never show this joyful side of your personality to anyone else but me. Even your best friend Milo has never seen you smile," he finished, a sad look upon his face. _

_The boy seemed to darken at this, and laid his cup silently upon the table in front of him. The other boy next to him suddenly held his breath, as if afraid his comrade would take his leave, but his fears were uncalled for. _

" _You have to forgive me, Aioros. I have no wish for others to know me more than they do. I am like this," he added, raising his eyes upon the taller lad. "I need to keep my distances. Call it… Self protection if you want."_

_Aioros nodded in understanding and picked up his own chocolate cup in silence. Suddenly, an idea seemed to pass across his mind and his mood brightened up instantly. _

"_You know that now that you have been promoted to the rank of gold saint, you may leave Sanctuary whenever the Pope gives you leave to do so. I believe it might be the time for you to fulfill a promise long given to an old friend of yours, don't you think?"_

_The boy looked up at him, his face expressionless as usual, although his eyes seemed to say otherwise; Was it hope, eagerness, joy, he was seeing therein? _

"_But… Will the pope accept?"_

_The question had lept from the other boy in the room that had stayed silent all along, following the interaction between the two Gold Saints of Athena. The elder boy smiled at him brightly and gave him a wink._

"_Of course, Aioria, I'm sure he will. Newly promoted Saints often ask for permission to visit their families and friends as a sort of celebration of their new duty."_

"_But would he accept… So soon?" the Aquarius Saint asked doubtfully._

"_He will," Aioros assured him. "Trust me. I have just met the pope this morning and from what I gather, he is hoping to offer you such a gift personally in the upcoming days."_

"_You went to the meeting with Saga?" Aioria's question again. The Aquarius Saint could never help but be annoyed at his comrade's unceasing questions to the Sagittarius Saint. And Aioros was always so ready to answer him, laughing and smiling at each of the boy's comments. He knew he should not have been jealous of course, Aioria was after all Arioros' little brother and such was the way bounds between brothers worked. He just wished he had been able to claim the Sagitarrius Saint as his brother as well. Only he could not; and would never admit it to anyone save himself in his darkest hours. Aioros had been the first Saint he had ever met and the first one he had warmed up to during his stay in Sanctuary. He had also been the only one to act towards him as a brother during all those years, giving him comfort and a listening hear whenever he needed and for all these attentions he was grateful, of course. Yet, he had never been able to give back all he had received to the one he owned it to and he hoped his new ascension to the rank of Saint would allow him to do so in due time; only, this time, not as a little brother, but as a brother of arms. _

"_Oh! Camus! Did you hear what I just said?"_

_The Aquarius Saint quickly gathered his spirits and turned back his attention to his comrades, clearly embarrassed, though he tried to hide it under his usual indifference. This managed to make Aioria giggle, while Aioros respectfully hid his smile beneath his hand._

"_I was saying," he declared, once he had regained his composure, "If you will allow it, I would gladly accompany you to visit your friend."_

_This caught the Aquarius off guard. Aioros was offering to come along with him? _

"_Not at all," he said silently thanking the goddess that such an opportunity had arisen. " I would gladly have your company."_

"_I was thinking… It has been a long time since the two of us had a discussion as brothers. I was hoping for this to be the occasion for both of us to catch up together." _

_The Sagittarius Saint smiled at him, as Aioria watched the two of them, feeling as though he was interfering into something which he was not allowed to. He knew the two boys had known each other since long and that they shared a peculiar bound together and though he wished to learn to know the Aquarius Saint more, he felt as though all the ice surrounding the boy would never be melted down by anyone, and certainly not him. Even Aioros had admitted to know but little of the Aquarius Saint and yet, he was the one to know him the best out of all Sanctuary. He smiled inwardly. Someday, when he too was a Saint, then perhaps he would be able to understand his 'brothers' better._

_Suddenly the boys heard footsteps from the main entry of the temple and the Sagittarius Saint quickly made sign for his hosts to remain quiet, as the Sagittarius Cloth silently enveloped him with its protection. Camus silently cursed himself for not bringing his cloth with him and took a protective stance in front of the future Leo Saint. Soon, the three of them noticed a slender figure, cloaked in white making her way towards them. Whoever it was, seemed unaware of the danger he or she was putting himself in by trespassing in such a way through the temples._

"_Halt! You have entered my temple and therefore need state your name and purpose here before I may decide to let you go further. What is your name?" Aioros' voice had been purposely commanding and the two younger boys thought that one would have been a fool to take him lightly at such times. Still, the figure continued to make her way towards them, slightly lifting a hand in a sign of peace. By the look of it, Camus guessed their visitor was a young woman of about twenty, but it was difficult to tell, as her face was carefully hidden under her hood._

"_I need to speak with you, Sagittarius Aioros. It is a rather urgent matter."_

_At this, the Gold Saint stiffened slightly and made sign for the two boys to wait for him. After a few seconds of inactivity, Aioria started to feel frustrated and gave Camus a sheepish look._

"_What say we spy on him?"_

_The Aquarius Saint quirked one of his eyebrows._

"_Spy on him? That is rather not very … Saintly." He stated, flatly. _

_The other lad rolled his eyes._

"_Oh come on, there is nothing wrong in listening! Besides, you are a Glod Saint! There is nothing wrong in a Gold Saint watching over another fellow Gold Saint while he is talking with someone we know nothing about! For all we know, she could be an assassin!" _

_This time it was Camus' turn to roll his eyes, but at least, the other boy had a point. They did, indeed, know nothing of their visitor. For all he knew, Aioros could have fallen into some sort of trap. Resigning himself, he gave the other one a nod and made way to where the pair had taken their leave. The door had been carefully locked, so that Camus had to bring his hear against it so to hear the conversation._

"… _He will try to do so tonight," the woman said, clearly anguished though the calm tone of her voice betrayed someone who had been trained to control emotions with skill. _

"_Are you sure of this?" Airos' voice._

" _You know he was awaiting to be chosen yet the Pope chose you over him."_

_Camus shook his head and thought. Him, she must have meant Saga, the Gemini Saint, as he had gone to a meeting with Aioros no sooner than this very was quite sure the were referring to the meeting Aioria had spoken of earlier. He had never meant the Gemini Saint, but he knew both Aioros and him shared a great bound of friendship. The Gemini Saint was also renowned for his righteousness and kindness, qualities which made as much a valuable Saint as Aioros was. What could it be the Gemini Saint had done wrong, he wondered._

_He was still trying to decipher the meaning of all this, when Airos' voice caught him out of his reverie._

"_I did not ask for it, it was the Pope's decision alone. I know him, he is wise. He would not try anything against any of us."_

"_Yet, you are to be the next Pope, and not him."_

_Ah. So that was what it was all about. Aioros was to become the future Pope. Somehow, that made him proud of his comrade. Airos clearly deserved it. _

"_Does Shion know of this?"_

" _He suspects it, but has no certainty. I was charged to warn you and remind you to save the infant Athena at all costs. Even if it means making sacrifices."_

"_Do you wish for me to kill him?" Aioros' voice was cold, filled with disdain._

_No answer came, but the Aquarius supposed the woman had nodded for Aioros' answer left not much place for any other possibility. _

" _I will not kill the one I see as my own brother!" he spat. "Who do you think I am, some sort of beast?"_

"_And what do you make of me?" the voice was cold this time, and deeply wounded. " He was also as my brother once, do not forget this."_

_Silence followed for quite some time then and Camus was about to take his leave when the woman's voice rose again._

" _The stars are beautiful tonight, don't you think?"_

"_Yes," he answered, tiredly. "If only they would not speak of upcoming disaster."_

_There was a few noises of cloth before Aioros spoke again._

" _Y__ou never spoke of the one who sent you, Arianne."_

"_And there is no need to. I am just the keeper of the Sagittarius Sign, that is all you need to know."_

_The Aquarius heard footsteps coming his way and quickly ran back to meet his hidden comrade, his face as pale as death itself._

"_Well, what have you heard?" Aioria asked, clearly excited. Still, his unrest was quickly cut short upon seeing the Saint's pale features. "Pray tell me, what did you hear?"_

_The boy simply shook his head in unease, clearly afraid to share his discoveries. How would the boy take the news that his brother was about to kill another fellow Saint on the assumptions of, he supposed, his former master, that he would try to bring harm to the Sanctuary? He could not believe another Saint capable of such a thing, and he hoped Aioros would not try to fulfill this woman's request._

_Aioria was still watching him intently but seemed to finally make up his mind concerning the other Saint's unease._

"_Ah, you heard them doing… well… You know…"_

_Camus simply stared blankly back at him, not believing how well he was coming out of this._

_Aioria smiled sheepishly._

"_D__on't worry, I can keep a secret; I won't tell a word about it!" He gave him a wink and left to the main room, awaiting for his brother's return. But the Aquarius did not follow him. Instead, he ran away from this accursed place, concealing his anguish in his newly owned temple, concealing his pain and fear. Only when he heard of Aioros' betrayal and attempt at killing Athena did he understand the final word of the story. He knew. He knew what had happened, or guessed it at least, but he supposed he was not far from reality. The rightful Pope had been murdered by the Gemini Saint which Aioros had refused to eliminate, thus saving Athena to the peril of his own life. _

To hear them back then, even his closest friend, stain his name and memory had been unbearable ,but he had stood his ground. Even when Aioria has accused him of knowing and refusing to tell him of his brother's betrayal, yes, even when the boy had spat at his face, he had stood his ground again, never revealing any of his emotions. Even the Pope had been fooled by his cold demeanor, thus trusting him perhaps more than others in sancuary. With time passing by, he had learned not to love, not to care, not to endanger his feelings and he had tried to pass this on to his pupil, believing it the best way to preserve yourself and those you love.

Sometimes he wondered if things would have been different, had he told Aioria the truth. To see the boy trying to deny his bounds with the Sagittarius Saint had been painful to see, though he had hoped he would come to understand. But in the end, people were as they were and he knew he was lucky to have come out of it unscathed. Almost…

He sighed. Why was he thinking about all of this now? Maybe it was because of this girl, he mused, sleepily. The only one who could ever melt the ice around his heart.

What was he thinking? He needed some sleep. Throwing the book onto the table, he made way for the nearest room on his left. Since his pupil had fallen asleep on the sofa, he might as well borrow the boy's bed. Opening the door, he noticed a fire was there also, burning in the fire place. He silently noted that the boy would get a lecture for spoiling wood for two rooms when only one was being used but softened at the thought of spending a night in a comfortably heated chamber. As he came closer to the bed, he heard someone breathing evenly, as if in a deep sleep. Startled, he chose to take a candle from the mantel piece and lit it into the fire place. What was his surprise when he recognized his pupil lying asleep in his own bed! Then if the boy was here, who was the person lying asleep in the main room?

Footsteps from the main room, heading his way. Quickly, he spun around, taking a defensive stance.

Upon seeing him, the intruder jumped in surprise.

"I am sorry," the young woman said. "I had not heard you coming in. I suppose you are the boy's master?"

The man nodded for her to continue, not sure yet whether to trust her or not.

"I was called in a few days ago to take care of the boy by one of his friends for he was gravely sick. I am the new healer of the nearest village, that is why I took the liberty to install myself in your humble home. You must be reassured now though," she added quickly upon seeing his brow crease slightly with concern. "He is out of all danger."

The man breathed in deeply in relief and gave the woman a look of gratitude. Now that he was looking at her more closely, it seemed to him that he already knew her from somewhere. She seemed to be the first to recognize him though, for her peaceful expression turned rapidly to one of horror.

"Oh dear… You.. It is you! The man from the inn!"

He quickly scrambled to his feet, trying to make out the sense in her words. Of what inn was she talking about? He never went into any inns. She must have been mistaking him for someone else.

"You are this man, this Camus!"

This time, he was startled and confounded. He quickly remembered his brief visit to Tolo with Milo and his meeting with the innkeeper's niece. And though he could lie to himself as much as he wanted, he could not deny he had recognized her from the start. Simply, he refused to admit it. He could not admit it.

Meanwhile, the girl seemed taken over by sheer panic.

"I… I knew I should never have come; forgive me for intruding in your life. I… I must be leaving."

Was it tears he had seen in her eyes?

So preoccupied by this as he was, he barely had the time to see her grab her coat and run into the storm which was raging outside.

What was she doing? She would kill herself in this cold, no matter what her powers were. No one could survive a Siberian storm unless he was a Saint.

"No! Wait!" he yelled back at her. " It is too cold outside! You will freeze to your death!"

But she was already too far to hear him. Without a second thought, he grabbed his heavy cloak and ran after her. She hadn't gone too far, by chance, but she was already moving much faster than he would have expected.

"Wait! You cannot stand in this cold! You will die before reaching the village!"

"Leave me alone! I need nothing from you, and certainly not your help or compassion!"

Her voice had been full of rage and power, such as which he had not been accustomed to, and for a moment, he remained motionless in his spot. This was not like the woman he remembered. The kind, caring, yet concealing little girl he had befriended at the age of three.

Clearing his thoughts, he resumed his race after her. Her or not, he needed to save this woman from herself; He owed her the life of his student after all.

"You will die here if you do not listen to me", he yelled. "Why will you not listen?"

"I know my way and my strength, I can go without your assistance!"

This time, he though he heard sobs in her voice. Perhaps was it a trick from the wind, or cries of weariness which she was shedding, he was not sure. He just could not bring himself to admit perhaps he was the cause of her pain.

"It is nonsense. No one can survive a Siberian storm like this one! Is it your wish to end your days here, in the deserted steeps of Oriental Siberia?"

This time, she turned around to face him, still trying to get away from his reach.

"And what do you know of me, Camus?" she spat. "You have only managed to destroy my hopes and feelings with a simple letter you deliberately wrote in French. Had you wished to torture me, you would not have done any better." She was yelling by now, as tears flowed freely from her fair eyes. "Do you not understand what this boy, Pierre, meant to me? How much I cared for him?"

The Aquarius Saint had finally managed to catch up with her, and in one final attempt, he managed to grab her wrist. She twisted her arm, trying to break free of his grasp, but he merely tightened his grip. For the first time in his whole life, he knew what he would do was utterly selfish and instinctive but somehow it felt as the right thing to do, alhough it frightened and thrilled him at the same time. Firmly, he pulled her towards him, and took her into a strong embrace, whispering for her only:

"Pardonne moi, Cora. Je n'avais pas le choix."*

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Somewhere in the vicinity of the Cyclades Isles, three hooded figures were holding a fiery counsel.

"This is not what had been planned," one with golden strands of hair escaping his hood declared, aggressively.

"Your first error was to not murder the monster at birth as I had asked of you," another snarled.

"It… It was not possible." The blond one stuttered. "How could we have?"

"Perhaps settling the past aside would have been the correct action, don't you think?" the other shot back, clearly annoyed. "Your… Childish considerations almost brought us to a state of no return!"

"You may call them childish, my lord, but you cannot ask of us to be as one of you and forsake all that makes us humans above all else," the last figure, which was clearly a woman, said.

"And what now?" the man answered. " That boy has only been but a troublemaker since his birth. No matter what actions we take, he is always getting in our way."

"Ah, but my lord, you will find that perhaps it is only for the best, don't you think?" the blond answered. "All that comes to pass, even if it has not been planned, is often for the best."

"And what makes you so certain?"

The fair haired man did not answer, and turned to the woman instead.

"Because, my lord, what Fate has bound, cannot be undone."

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* "Pardonne moi, Cora. Je n'avais pas le choix." : « Forgive me, Cora. I had no other choice. » (in French of course ^^)


	9. Bitterness

In this chapter, you will find a rather large number of references to The Lost Canvas but you do not need to be familiar with it to follow the story : ) The plot is thickening itself a bit although secrets are starting to unravel.

Hope you will enjoy this chapter! And thanks to all those of you who have reviewed until now.

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CHAPTER IX

BITTERNESS

The wind still raged outside the little house, though with less strength than it had had a few hours before. It was still pitch dark outside, and Camus had had to add some fire wood to the hearth. He had managed to bring Cora back inside and wrapped her in a warm blanket though he was beginning to doubt she had any need for it. He had even taken the liberty to prepare to mugs of hot chocolate for the two of them, careful not to awake his still recovering student. The two had not exchanged a word since his confession in the storm, making him feel more and more ill at ease. Even now, as they were facing each other in utter silence, he felt as though she despised him for all he had done to her, not wanting to look at him in the eyes. He knew what he had done had been far from courteous and totally unworthy of a friend but he had done it for her own good, had he not?

It was so frustrating, being face to face with the one person he had longed to be with since their separation and refusing to recognize her, even going all the way up to lying, only for what he had seen as her own good. How much that had cost him, and how much he had wished to never see her again after this very moment. And now, here she was, sitting right in front of him, refusing to grant him but one small glance. And perhaps, he thought, that was what made him suffer the most.

Discretely, he tried looking at her more closely. She had much changed, though she still kept this ethereal aura about her which had startled him already in their childhood. Her eyes, though, had changed. They no longer held this pure and genuine essence which seemed to have left room for one of power and strength, something he had not expected to find in the eyes of one so demure. He could have called her beautiful had he wished to admit it, with her long ebony hair framing her pale porcelain face. She reminded him of the elves from Tolkien's mythology he had read long ago, someone capable of rivaling even with the goddesses themselves. Quickly, he averted his eyes, not wanting her to catch him staring at her. There was no need for him to make this situation even more awkward then it already was.

Although he did not know it, his action had not remained unnoticed, and Cora started feeling slightly uncomfortable, feeling the colors rise to her cheeks. In truth, she was truly happy to be finally reunited with Pierre but she could not find the strength to forgive him so easily for having lied to her and disregarded her feelings.

"Cora, please, talk to me."

His voice was filled with anguish, though he had tried to mask it underneath a more even tone. Slowly she rose her cold eyes upon him, still refusing to give him an answer. He sighed in despair.

"Cora, please, I know what I have done was by no means acceptable but try to understand. It was for your own good."

"My own good, really?" she gave him a mocking laugh. "What good was there to lie to me? Or did you simply wish to forget about me and your past, even taking up a new name?"

"It is not that," he snapped, switching his gaze to another direction, not wanting to meet her accusing stare, falling into silence.

She huffed discretely and went to set her cup on the small table in front of her. That is when she saw it: the book he had left there a few hours ago. It was an old book and almost all colors and writings had disappeared from its cover. Taken over by curiosity, she picked it up and examined it more closely. Seeing as she had taken the small volume away, Camus started to panic slightly.

"Leave it alone," he hissed, "it's something I…"

"Something you what?" she snapped back, stressing on the last word. "Something you do not wish for me to look at?"

She had already started to open it when she noticed between the two first pages, neatly pressed inside the book, one large daisy. Above it, she could still read the book's title: "L'Etranger", Albert Camus. No doubt this was one of the flowers she had unfrozen fourteen years ago, along with the book she had offered him. For a long while, she remained speechless and motionless, just staring blankly at the page.

Camus lat his head fall into his hands in resignation, not daring to look at her.

"But…" she murmured, "I don't understand. I thought… You wanted to forget about your past!"

Slowly he rose to take the book out of her hands, still not looking at her and went to set it back into his cloak's pocket. His back was on her now, his shoulders slightly slumped.

" I think," he started slowly, as if choosing his words with care, "you know now why I am commonly known as Camus and not Pierre."

She held her breath, waiting for him to continue.

" I was never good at showing my feelings and thoughts to others, at first because I suffered from their disdain, then because I was sent away to become a warrior for a very important person. It is a job in which people rarely live to see old age. Keeping your feelings to yourself is the best way to preserve those you care about from suffering of your death when it comes. Because in the end, that is what ultimately will happen."

She said nothing in return. Not that there was anything she could have answered to such a statement. She knew Pierre had always been secretive as a child but for him to have chosen to live his life away from people's feelings, refusing to have any human relations whatsoever on the basis of a duty he had to fulfill which would lead him only to death made her feel truly sorry for him. What a sad life he must have had until now, indeed.

"Pierre… What has happened to you?" she whispered softly. "You are no longer the child I remember."

The silence followed her statement, only broken from time to time by the fire wood's cracks in the fire place and the wind's blows outside the house. Suddenly, Camus spun around and walked firmly towards the door to his room.

"Come with me," he said, his serene composure back upon his face once more. "There is something which I wish to show you."

Following him in, she found herself in a room slightly smaller than that of the boy she had tended to. A few books were arranged neatly upon a small working desk and a large sleeping bed was taking up almost all the space there was left in the room. But what intrigued her the most was a strange looking piece of furniture sat in the back of the room beneath the window sill and hidden underneath a heavy brown cloth. He gestured for her to take a seat on the bed and took away the heavy fabric, revealing the hidden object: it was an old piano!

Cora held her breath and sat herself down just next to the piano bench. Without another world, and without looking at her, Camus sat in front of the instrument, making his fingers crack slightly. In the dimly lit room, she could barely see him and she wondered how he expected to play with such a poor quality of light. Still, he settled his hands on the keyboard and shortly, he begun to play.

The tune was not one she was used to. She knew most of her classics of course, but this had nothing to do with what she had heard before. So much sadness and bitterness all entwined into one single piece, it almost made her want to scream. There were many things entwined there, regret, hope, and something more, something bigger, something stronger. Stronger than all those other feelings which were threatening to engulf her. Suddenly the melody stopped, followed by a long awkward silence.

"This…" he said, after a while, "is the only way I can express myself. And this music," he continued, finally turning around, "is how I feel about you."

She looked at him, bewildered. She did not know what to answer. What did he mean by this? He barely knew her. His only memories were that of her as a child. And him, did she really know him? She knew how Pierre was, but Camus, she did not know him. They were two different persons, both entwined into one and the same personality. At once when she had met him again, she had felt something very strong going on between the two of them but she was not ready yet to cope with it nor to analyze it. She actually did not even know how she felt about him. He was both a friend and a stranger to her.

She rose silently to her feet, trying to find a proper answer to give him.

"I…"

Before she could give any form of answer, Camus was already on his feet and had set a hand upon her mouth, holding her strongly in his arms, preventing her from doing any movements.

"There is someone outside," he whispered in her ears, "someone that does not seem to have any good intentions towards us."

She kept her thoughts to herself, not that she could have spoken with his hand upon her mouth anyways. She knew she ought to have wondered how he could have sensed any enemy outside of the house where she had only felt the faint presence of a cosmo nearby, but the only thing she could think of was the sweet fragrance of his hair next to her face. Slowly, he released his grasp upon her mouth and took her hand firmly in his own, guiding her towards the main gate, careful not to make any sound which might betray their moves to their unwanted visitor. His hands were soft, she realized, not at all what she would have expected from a warrior of any sort and she suddenly felt the urge to squeeze his hand slightly in comfort. The move seemed to surprise him as she felt his shoulders slightly tense.

Slowly, he opened the door. The storm seemed to have diminished, leaving way to a vast desolated plain. Cora felt a sudden thrill take a hold of her when she suddenly felt the strange cosmo in front of them. Where could the stranger be? There was no one in front of them!

"Be careful, Camus, he is just in front of us!" she warned him, but Camus had not time to prepare for the attack that came towards them.

"To slow," a voice with a strong british accent declared, with a snarl. "How pathetic!"

Cora did not take the time to listen to what sort of attack the man was now yelling at them, instead she stood square in front of her friend, her two arms raised forming a cross. She had gone through a very similar situation before, when she had met with the dream God: Hypnos. She knew she could withstand such an attack, whatever her powers were, whoever she truly was.

There was a blinding flash of light, and she thought she heard Camus yell out in rage behind her. But truly enough, her defense held on.

Camus stared at her in bewilderment. From where had she gotten such a power, without even wearing an armor of any sort? Who was she?

Meanwhile, their enemy seemed to have been taken aback as well.

"You,… You stood up to my attack! Who are you?"

"I should be the one to ask you this question," she painted. Clearly, her defense had taken up most of what little comso she had left, having burnt already much of it while healing the boy.

The man landed just in front of her, making her realize his attack had come from the sky, which was why she had not been able to discern him in the first place. He wore an armor quite similar to that of Hypnos, though the wings in his back resembled more that of a dragon than a peacock.

"Only a God may stand up to my attacks," he stated, bluntly. "So tell me, you are not Athena, so who might you be? And most of all, are you my foe, or my ally?" He give her an evil smirk and begun laughing, seeing how exhausted she was. "No matter," he went on, "since I will destroy you with my next attack. If you are truly my ally, then surely you will survive, don't you think?"

"Don't you dare raise your hand against her!" Camus spat, stepping in front of his friend.

"Aaah, the frail human," the dark warrior declared, focusing his attention back unto the young man. "I had almost forgotten your presence." He smirked once more. "You should have run when you still had the chance."

"I doubt that," he hissed, gritting his teeth.

A golden aura came to cover him, revealing a beautiful armor which shone as bright as gold.

"I see," the other warrior mused in wonder. " A Gold Saint of Athena! How convenient!"

He gave out an evil laugh. "I have already met your kind before, little fool. And I will be quite happy to finally get the chance to finish you off, Aquarius Degel."

At this, the young Aquarius Saint stiffened.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken, my name is Camus, not Degel."

The other man only shrugged.

"Whatever. Your name may have changed but you are still the same as two hundred years ago. What a pity to have committed suicide. I would have loved to tear you into pieces," he grinned, "after having taken care of your little Scorpio friend… What was his name again? Ah yes… Cardia."

He gave him an evil smile, but Camus kept his continence. He did not know this Cardia, but he knew the Scorpio Saint indeed. Milo. Had this man already attacked and disposed of his friend? That seemed quite unlikely. Milo was a very skilled warrior.

"I will have your head," he hissed.

"You will try, little Saint, you will try."

Cora could only stare, not believing a thing of what she was now seeing before her eyes. Pierre…Camus had become a Saint of Athena! That meant Milo was of them too. She looked at him in despair. That was why he had refused to recognize her! He knew as a Saint he would be brought into strong conflicts from which he would one day never return. He had tried to keep her away only to prevent her the pain of losing him once more.

Meanwhile, the two warriors had taken their stand and were facing each other, the tension palpable in the air around them.

"Greatest…"

"Aurora…"

She did not hear the rest for all became suddenly white and only one phrase echoed in the air, pronounced by another man, no doubt.

She thought she saw two figures standing before her: one a man, and the other a woman.

" Impossible!" the other warrior roared in frustration. "Only a God can stop such an attack!"

"Only a God indeed," the man before her murmured, as the stranger slowly disappeared into oblivion.

Cora was completely stunned. She could feel someone was bringing her to her feet, holding her close. She recognized Camus' fragrance and let herself fall into his embrace, thankful for his soothing presence. How much she had feared to lose him.

"He will return."

The other man's voice. Still holding on to Camus, she managed to turn her head slightly so she might take a closer look at their unexpected savior. He was a rather tall man, with shoulder length blond hair, but what surprised her the most were his eyes, which almost seemed to shine like two sapphires.

"Who was he?" Camus demanded, still holding on firmly to his friend.

"Someone who does not wish you well, Saint of Athena," the man went on. "I suggest you let go off this young woman."

"Why should I?" he demanded, cooly.

"She is not safe here anymore," the woman finally spoke up, retrieving the hood covering her head and revealing a long flow of deep aquamarine hair. "and neither are you. It would be wiser to return to sanctuary while my Lord and I will look over your friend."

"Lord? Really?" Camus murmured, suspiciously, eying the man questioningly.

"My name is of no concern to you. Here, I go under the name of Hermon. In another realm, this name is quite different."

Cora spun around and looked more closely at the man who had been her protector for so many months, finally able to see his true features, and what she saw surprised her. Just as when she had recognized Argos in the person of Milo, she felt as though this man's true identity was not the one he gave.

"You are not Hermon," she whispered, squinting her eyes as she looked at him more intently. "you are a God! You are… Oh dear! You are Herm…"

The young woman beside him was faster than her as she slapped her hand upon her mouth.

"Do not utter the name here, my lady, it is not precisely safe."

Camus roughly pushed her aside, motioning to her that he did not appreciate such manners towards his friend. The woman only raised her hand in a sign of peace, and moved away. Now that was familiar. He had seen that before, he was absolutely sure of it.

" Cora," the man said gently, " It is not safe any longer for you to stay here. We must leave right away. My servant will show you the way."

The blue haired woman nodded slightly and motioned for her to follow her.

Cora bit her lip. She knew she could not go against this decision, as she felt it was the right thing to do, but leaving Camus… Being separated once more was not what she wanted.

"Camus," she whispered for him only, still hesitating what to say, as he looked at her expectingly. "When you see Milo again, tell him I miss him."

She gave him a friendly hug, gazed upon him one more time and spun around, running away from him and her other self. She knew some part of her tonight had died, though she could not say how exactly it had happened. It was just how it was.

Camus stared back blankly at her, motionless and as cold as ice. Hermon gazed at him, deep in thought, and finally came towards him.

"You must not try to see her again, Aquarius," he warned, "Or the same fate as Aquarius Degel you will know. And I doubt that is what you want for you, and for her."

Camus only stared back at him, defiantly.

"You know what I mean, Aquarius", he mused. "Don't you remember… Seraphina?"

At these words, Camus begun to feel uneasy. Though these names were unknown to him, they seemed strangely familiar.

"What do you mean?" he asked, off balance.

"There is always a cost to pay when a mortal comes to close to the Gods."

Camus could only stare back, blankly, in incomprehension.

"Farewell, Aquarius."

And before he knew it, the man was gone.

**********************************************************************

"Chess mate, dear brother," a man with silver hair mused.

"Crap! I hate playing with you," the other man shot back.

"Ah! That's why you love me, brother!"

"If only you weren't my twin."

Suddenly, the door to their room was slammed open.

"Why did you not alert me on Persephone's return?"

The one who had just interrupted their little game had a strong English accent, and was wearing a strange armor with long dark dragon wings in his back and he was clearly enraged with the chess playing twins.

"Relax, Rhadamanthys, you would have been told in due time," the blond headed one declared.

"Don't take that tone with me, Hypnos, I don't appreciate being looked down upon."

"Really? Well perhaps you would like to know your little excursion almost brought our plans to a halt this evening," the silver haired man declared, coolly.

"Your plans? What plans?"

"My, you are slow today, Wyvern. What do you expect? Pandora has taken too much power in this realm and we need our Goddess back. After three thousand years, she has finally reincarnated and we cannot risk loosing her to the Olympians this time. We must secure our alliance with her and this time, she must chose us willingly, not out of some trickery with pomegranate seeds. Do I make myself clear?"

"Stay calm, Thanatos," his brother urged him. "I'm sure our friend had gotten the picture. Now all he will have to do, is remain out of our business."

He grinned evilly in the judge's direction and Rhadamanthys only found the strength to gulp.

"And… How can you be sure she will come back to Our Majesty's side?" he asked, after a while.

"Oh, you will see, Wyvern, you will see", Thanatos said dreamily. "We have a master key in our plans."

"And pray tell, what is this… master key?"

The two brothers laughed in unison.

"We have… Adonis!"

12


	10. Arianne

This chapter was again a tricky one, because of key characters making their appearances. It's hard to bring in important elements to a story's plot without revealing everything and I hope I managed to do so!

I really felt the urge to write the next scene which is really clear in my mind but chose to keep it for the next chapter It will be up soon, I promise! :)

To all readers, please don't hesitate to review :) Have a nice read ;)

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CHAPTER X

ARIANNE

Polyaigos Island, one week later, February 1987

Cora gazed out the window, her long raven hair coming down over her eyes, a living embodiment of death itself. The evening air was rather cool compared to the daily heat, allowing her to draw pictures on the window. Hermon's servant was washing the dishes in the kitchen nearby, dressed in a plain white dress of ancient Greek style. A golden clip was holding her hair away from her eyes, the rest of its aquamarine flow cascading down her shoulders to her waist. Glancing at the young woman, she noticed how prostrate she looked and bit her lip in concern. Not once had the girl tried talking to her, caught up in her own silence. At first, she had chosen to ignore it, but as the days went by, becoming a week, the woman had begun to feel concerned and annoyed. If the girl would not make a move by herself, then she would have to somehow find a way to get her out of the house, even if it were only for a short instant.

Seeing as she had finished washing the dishes, she threw her apron away in a corner of the small kitchen and made her way towards her companion. The door had been left open, so to let the evening breeze flow across the room. For a moment, she remained motionless in front of the doorway, gazing away at the sinking sun, taking in the evening's fresh air.

"The stars are beginning to appear," she said, brusquely. "The sky will be beautiful tonight. What say we walk a bit on the sea shore?"

At first, Cora did not answer, contemplating her art on the window. The other woman sighed inwardly and was about to leave alone when she finally spoke up.

"I would take a stroll with pleasure", she declared. "I would gladly have your company."

The aquamarine haired woman almost laughed, if such a thing was even possible. She would gladly have her company? Indeed. She had addressed her as but a servant, approving of her presence as if giving an order. But after all, she thought, wasn't it exactly what she was, a servant to them all who lived in the heights of Mount Olympus? Whoever she had been and whatever she might have done in the past, she still remained and always would be a mere mortal, while this girl, so much younger than her, would live up to become closer to the Gods than she had ever been.

She brushed a few strands of hair away from her face and chose to arbor a smile upon her fair face.

"I am glad to hear this, my lady." She answered, slightly bowing her head. "Let us go, shall we?"

Cora gave her a small nod and followed her lead.

The servant had been right, she admitted. The night promised to be truly beautiful. She took in a deep breath and begun to feel whole again, though not completely. The essences that filled her nose, the presences she felt around her, none of them could make her forget that sensation that something was amiss. She felt as though the world, since her departure from Siberia, was like an unfinished canvas to which some colors were missing. It felt awkward to have such an image in her mind but it was rather relevant non the less, to think of the world as a canvas, a lost and incomplete canvas.

They had by now reached the shore and her companion had already begun to unfasten her sandals, walking barefoot on the warm golden sand of the empty beach. The wind played in her aquamarine hair, giving her a surrealistic aura and for the first time since her arrival on the deserted island, Cora felt the urge to know more about this stranger who had been looking after her these last few days.

After a while, the woman finally stopped and sat herself on the sand, raising her eyes to the sky, contemplating the constellations appearing upon the dark sky. None of the women spoke, content to take in the beauty of the sky towering over them. The sun was now gone since quite some time and the constellation of Orion was clearly visible, the Gemini twins running across the sky above him as Taurus seemed to be running away from Orion's hands. Suddenly, a shooting star made its way across the Gemini constellation, stealing a small cry of surprise from both young women. Cora hurried to formulate a wish, closing her eyes for a second, only reopening them to take a glance at her companion whose eyes were still slightly closed. The other girl soon reopened them and gave her a small smile as she noticed being observed.

"Have you made a wish?" she asked, her eyes strangely twinkling with sadness.

"I have," Cora answered, wanly. "And you? What have you wished for?"

The woman's smile became bitter.

" For something I know will not be fulfilled."

"Then why wish for it?" she asked, surprised.

"It is always best to keep hope, even when there is none."

Cora did not reply immediately, pondering over these words. She was beginning to feel this woman was hiding a terrible secret from her, something she both wished to know and would rather not discover at the same time.

"You never told me your name", she declared lightly, trying to forget their previous conversation.

The woman gave a small laugh.

"I believe I do not need to tell you," she answered smoothly. "You have the power to decipher the name of those before you, do you not?"

Cora seemed to think for a while, remembering how she had both found out Milo and later on Hermon's original names. She did not know where this power came from, neither did she know how to use it properly but as this woman was inviting her to don her skills, she could as well give it a try.

At first, she concentrated on her face, but nothing happened. The servant slightly smirked, making her huff in frustration.

"It doesn't seem to work" she declared in annoyance.

"Perhaps you should concentrate on some particular part of my face, not focusing on it as a whole," she suggested.

Cora nodded in agreement. She was right, of course. But what ought she to focus upon?

After a bit of hesitation, she finally chose to concentrate on the woman's eyes. At first, nothing happened and she thought she had chosen the wrong target. But slowly, she found herself as though being slowly sucked up inside these strange aquamarine eyes without being able to pull away. She had heard before that a person's eyes were the windows to his soul but never had she thought it to be so real. She felt her cosmo flare slightly as the other woman breathed in in surprise. Suddenly, images begun to appear before what she thought were her eyes. She saw an old Greek temple and a young man of about fifteen, with dark brown locks slightly coming over his eyes. The boy seemed sad and troubled though she could not decipher why. Then, the image vanished, giving way to another one, more distant this time. A young man with two dots upon his forehead was forging something. An armor perhaps? She was not sure. His features were pale and sad and Cora thought she saw him cry.

"He will never wear it," he mumbled. "Never, never, never!"

Suddenly, a tall blond man took over this image, all clad in a golden armor. He was standing before a young man with dark blue hair, clad in what seemed to her like royal clothes.

"I must to my brother," the royally dressed one said, sadness audible in his voice. "I must save him while there is still hope."

"Hope?" A woman's voice cried, marked with pain. "There is no hope left. If you leave, his curse will also fall upon you."

The sensation was strange, as if the words just spoken had come from her own mouth.

"I am ready to take the risk," the man answered, risking an eye in her direction. "And I swear that in this life or the next, we will meet again."

Then the image vanished and a last one came to her mind, both strangely distant and very clear. A very young boy with long aquamarine hair was standing before what looked like the corpse of a young man with the same aquamarine long hair. A man was standing before him, a torch in his hands as he lit the funeral pyre.

"I am sorry Aïdan, in the end I could not save him."

The boy seemed to swallow his tears before raising his eyes, as though looking at her. He reached out his small hand and whispered in a half broken voice:

"Arianne."

Suddenly, the bound was broken and Cora thought she heard the other woman gasp in surprise.

"Arianne!" She managed to croak, trying to forget all the images she had seen. "Your name is Arianne."

She could still see the little boy groping for her over the dead body slowly burning and she thought she would be sick. The boy on the pyre had reminded her of Camus and she started to feel dizzy. Arianne came to help her lay down on the sand without a word, waiting for her to catch her breath and recover fully her senses.

"It is dangerous to wonder in someone's mind," she said coolly. "One never knows what he may find there."

"You… Your life," Cora managed to say, "It was marked by tragedy. I have felt it."

Arianne looked away, her face emotionless as it usually was.

"I have had my share of losses and pain," she finally said, coldly. "There is nothing else to add."

Cora said nothing in return. She knew she had intruded in the woman's private sphere without her permission, it was only logical for her to refuse giving her more details.

"I am truly sorry," she confessed, ashamed.

"There is nothing to apologize for," Arianne answered harshly. "One day, perhaps, you will find the meaning to what you have seen. Perhaps…"

She had added these last words in a warmer tone, soothing Cora's mind a little.

That was when they heard it: the voices of two men fighting together. Arianne was already on her feet, all senses on alert, motioning for her to remain quiet. Without a sound, they hurried to the place where they could still hear the voices, growing louder and louder as they approached them. Cora soon identified a small boat drying upon the shore and the shadow of two men clearly arguing together. She could not tell their features quite clearly in the starlight, though she noticed both men had rather long hair. She felt her heart skip a beat as she hurriedly ran past the servant.

"Wait! My lady, you shouldn't…"

Arianne did not have the time to catch her wrist that the girl was already standing next to the two men, though neither seemed to have noticed her presence quite yet.

"I was not drowning!" the taller man was yelling, "I never asked for you to bring me on this shore!"

"What, not drowning? You were floating on your back in the middle of nowhere! And you do not seem to be the type of person to commit suicide, in my opinion!"

That voice… She had heard it before! Could it be? She dared not hope.

"Listen, perhaps you did this to ease your conscience, but now I'd like you to take me back where you found me!"

The other man huffed.

"In the middle of the night, I'm taking you nowhere. You will have to wait!"

The man slightly looked away, showing her his profile.

"Milo!"

The man turned his gaze in her direction, clearly startled as he had not heard her approach when his face suddenly brightened up.

"Co… Cora! Goddess, what are you doing here on this secluded island?"

He ran towards her and took her in a warm embrace.

"I could ask you the same thing, don't you think?"

The young man only laughed, making her swirl slightly in the air.

"I was sailing around my… native island when I saw this man drowning nearby. The day was coming to an end and I found myself forced to set shore upon this little piece of rock for the night."

"What is your name, by the way?" he added, turning around to face the other man.

To his surprise, the man was no longer trying to argue with him, staring away in the distance instead. Taken aback by this reaction, he quickly spun around, finally taking in the other woman's presence, standing slightly above them on the sand dunes. He noticed her tall and muscular stature, like that of the amazons he had met in Sanctuary and begun to tense slightly. Of all things, he had not expected to find himself face to face with another warrior. The woman, though, did not seem to be concerned with him, rather staring back at his companion with a cold stare he felt he had seen before in someone he knew rather well.

The world seemed to have frozen under her stare and none of them tried to make a move nor to speak.

"Indeed," she mused coldly, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence. "What is your name?"

The man, who had not stopped staring at her since her arrival seemed to finally snap out of his trance.

"Nokan," he shot back, quite sure of himself, though Cora felt as though something passed across his eyes. Was it fear? She could not have said for sure. This time, though, she did not try wondering into his mind. One journey was enough for a day, until she had found a way to control that power as she wished.

"Well, Nokan," Arianne replied, "You and your friend have set foot upon my land and I shall have you stay in my home until the morning has come."

"That is very nice of you, my lady," Milo started to say, "but we do not want to abuse of your hospitality."

"Who said this was an invitation?" she cut him short. "I am only asking you to come so I may keep an eye on the two of you. Once the day is come, you may be free to leave. Until then, you will obey my words, is that clear?"

Milo's features became beat red and Cora felt her cousin's muscles tense into a fighting posture.

"Please!" she urged him, "Arianne is the one who has been offering me a home these last few days. There is no need to fight. I know she will keep her word."

Milo's features finally softened, though Cora could still feel his frustration for having been so looked down upon. He finally nodded, and as she motioned for them to follow, both he and his cousin came into motion, glancing at each other from time to time, content to be in each other's presence. The other man called Nokan followed as well, though rather reluctantly. Still, Cora had the impression that Arianne had fascinated him in such a way that he wished to follow her, as though bewitched. Or was it her he was following? She was not certain. She shivered slightly, making Milo look at her in concern.

"You must be cold!" he declared, alarmed. "I'm sorry I didn't ask how you were feeling before. Here, take my coat."

She smiled at him thankfully, not wishing to undo his enthusiasm, though she knew she would not be needing the warm fabric on her shoulders. The young man wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, speeding up the pace slightly so to keep up with their guide.

Once Arianne had reached the small house, she quickly lit a few candles. Only then did Cora finally see Nokan's features in detail. He seemed slightly older then her, with long dark blue hair and a rather muscular body. He was wearing an old Greek tunic and a pair of white trousers, complete with a pair of dark boots. For an instant, the young woman wondered how the man had ever managed to even float with such an apparel but seeing the look of aggressiveness in his eyes, she chose not to question him over the subject. Something about him reminded her of someone, someone supposed to mean something to her, but as much as she tried searching her mind, she could not find any connection whatsoever between this man and herself. Arianne, meanwhile, showed them around, preparing two rooms for her visitors, though she kept glancing from time to time at the eldest of the two young men. Finally, the two of them bid the two ladies goodnight and left for their rooms. Cora felt slightly disappointed for not having had the chance to discuss further on with her beloved cousin, but she needed to confide in him elements which she did not wish to unravel in front of the young servant.

Four hours had passed when Milo was roused from his sleep by surprise. He felt a hand gently cover his mouth, forcing him to remain quiet, as he tried to keep his calm as best he could.

"Shhhh," a voice hissed near his hear. "It is only I."

Slowly, he relaxed, recognizing Cora's lilting voice.

"I need to speak with you out of ear's shot. Come!"

She gently obliged him to his feet.

"We will go by the beach where you have left your boat."

Milo hurriedly did as he was told. Something in the young woman's voice had caught his attention and he felt he desired to know above all else what she wished to entrust in him.

They made their way out in perfect silence, Milo marveling at his cousin's abilities to conceal her footsteps. While he had learned how to master such things through years of harsh and difficult training, she, on the other hand, seemed to have the natural ability to mingle with her surroundings.

"Milo," she finally asked as the two of them had reached the little shore, "I must know… Have you seen Camus since last we met?"

Of all questions he had been prepared to hear, Milo had not expected her to mention the name of the Aquarius Saint. Though he tried to hide it, his face became more tense, betraying his discomfort and slightly repressed anger. This was enough for Cora to understand that the two had met and certainly argued together, the signs of it still visible on her cousin's fine features.

"I have," he declared, coolly. "And we have not left in the best of terms."

He let himself fall upon the sand, turning his face into the direction of the Gemini constellation.

"Why do you ask?"

Cora bit her lip, wondering whether she ought to speak to him about her stay in Siberia or not. After a short moment of reflection, she chose not to and simply shook her head, as to chase away the question she had just formulated.

"Curiosity is all," she added, catching his questioning stare.

Milo only sighed and rose to a sitting position, bringing himself up to his cousin's level.

"Listen, you do to have to lie to me. I know he and you were once rather close."

"How do you know this?" she asked, her features tense.

For only answer, he handed her the letter which Camus had written to her in Tolo, months ago. Upon seeing her accusing look, he only averted his eyes, running a hand across his hair.

"Do not blame me," he defended himself. "It was your uncle who fell upon it in your room. He merely gave it to me after your departure."

"So you spoke to him." She stated, flatly. "And you argued."

Milo nodded, blankly, not knowing what to answer.

"Whatever for?" she demanded, clearly in need of an explanation.

"Oh please, Cora! You have to be joking!" he blurted out, turning his face once more in her direction, his eyes buried deep in her own. "He lied to you! He brought harm to you as well! I could not allow that!"

Cora let her head fall into her hands, not believing what she was hearing.

"Milo, Milo, Milo," she lamented, shaking her head in distress. "Why did you have to interfere?"

"What for?" the young man asked, bewildered. "But Cora, it was … He… You… I mean, my friend or not, he deliberately hurt your feelings! You are almost my only family; I was not going to let him treat you as he did!"

Cora simply gave him a look of disgust, and looked away.

"How can you say such a thing? You barely know me. I barely know you! Would you be willing to destroy your friendship just for the sake of someone you hardly know, family or not?"

"But Cora, he's just a jerk!" he declared, dumbfound. "All he cares about are his icicles. He hardly has no feelings!"

Milo suddenly felt a harsh sting upon his left cheek, realizing Cora had just slapped him with all her might.

"How dare you say this!" she hissed. "You do not know how he feels!"

"And do you?" he shot back, his voice full of melancholy, his hand slowly trying to rub away the pain on his left cheek.

"I…"

He gave her a sad smile before looking away in the distance, his eyes full of sorrow.

"I thought so," he murmured. "You know, Camus has been my friend since as far as I can remember. We would spend most of our free time together, enjoying life and its pleasures around us, but I never had the chance to know anything of his feelings, never knowing if he truly enjoyed my company or anyone else's for that matter. He never smiled, never laughed, never cried. At first, I took no importance in this, but things became worse after the death of one of our comrades. One who had betrayed us. He became colder, perhaps more bitter if it was even possible. You see, we are friends, but I do not know him."

Cora remained silent for a long time, gazing from time to time at her cousin's heartbroken face, understanding that having argued with Camus had cost him more than he was ready to admit. Gently, she sat her hand on his bruised cheek, her soft touch soothing him slightly.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked, remorsefully.

"It could be worse," he said, shrugging it off. "And I deserve it. For what I have done recently, I deserve it, believe me."

Images of Andromeda island flashed before his eyes. The cries of the citizens as he launched his attacks, destroying their houses, families and hopes in one simple motion of his arms. He shuttered at the memory. But he had had no choice! He was only fulfilling his duty, doing what he was asked to do for a greater good.

He winced as he felt the sting on is cheek as she passed a bit of sea water on his bruise. There was no need in speaking of this to her, he thought, she did not need to know he was an assassin. He risked an eye in her direction, falling upon her concerned face.

"Milo, you must take me to Athena's Sanctuary."

The young man suddenly paled. How did she know of this?

"I must see Camus," she insisted. "I know you are Saints of Athena, though I will not tell you yet how I have gotten this knowledge," she quickly added upon seeing his mouth open at her statement.

Milo stared at her in bewilderment. How could she ask this of him? Even if he managed to have her pass Sanctuary's gates, he would never dare present himself in Aquarius Temple along with her. No, even alone he would not dare meet him again; not after what had happened in Siberia months ago. Not after what he had said.

He closed his eyes in a mere attempt to hold back his tears. How was it he was giving in so easily? Why did he have to let go of his emotions in his cousin's presence? She would take him for an idiot if he continued. He brushed his tears away, facing her again and ready to convince her such a trip would not be possible, but her face, the look in her eyes, made him say otherwise.

" The sun will rise in an hour," he declared, sure of himself. "We will leave straight away."

Cora sighed in relief and followed him to his little embarkation.

Meanwhile, Nokan had found himself ripped away from his sleep in a far less agreeable manner. Though the lights were dim, he made out the features of the woman who had invited them to her house. He was about to rise from his bed, a sarcastic grin upon his face, when he felt the cold sting of tempered steel against his throat.

"If I were you, I would not move," the woman said, her tone cold and full of assurance.

Still, the man continued to grin, mocking her.

"And what do you think, a blade will do against me?" he crowed. "I have abilities that you could never imagine, even in your wildest dreams."

He made way to move her arm away but stopped dead in his movement as he felt the blade bite into his flesh, letting a small drop of blood trickle down his slightly tanned skin.

"I know your kind," she continued, confidently. "And I would know how to deal with you, believe me."

She brought her face to his own, her eyes glowing menacingly.

"Now, pray tell, what does a pawn of Poseidon do wandering about the Cyclades Islands?"

The man simply stared back blankly at her, as though not understanding her question.

"I'm afraid I do not understand what you are speaking about," he said, eying her suspiciously.

She sighed and placed her other hand upon his forehead.

"You should have chosen to answer," she said, disapprovingly.

The man was about to reply when he suddenly felt a great surge of pain in his head, emanating from the woman's hand. She seemed to scan his mind for a few seconds before she finally released him, leaving him panting for breath. Slowly he felt the pressure of the dagger's edge retrieving away from his throat, allowing him to take a seating position. He rubbed the skin of his neck where the blade had been, still eying the woman from the corner of his eye.

Arianne averted her eyes from the man's face, focusing on the scenery outside the window instead.

"You are free to go, "she said, as though relieved. " I will not be hindering you."

Rising from his bed, the man finally made his way towards her, his look of confidence back upon his face once more.

"May I know the reason for this change of behavior?" he asked, casually.

"I have no need to give you one," she answered, coolly. "You had better not test my patience too much, in case I would change my decision."

Not waiting for his answer, she roughly took him by the arm and led him to the backdoor entrance which led to the sand dunes towering the sea shore.

"I trust you will find your way from here. Just know I may not be as merciful should our paths meet again." She had said these words still avoiding his eyes, making him feel slightly uncomfortable.

Still, this did not stop him from reaching for a strand of her aquamarine hair, rubbing it between his fingers, thus forcing her to look at him in the eyes. He grinned smugly.

"Like all women, you cannot resist me," he whispered, bringing his face to hers, their lips almost touching. "You dare not bring harm upon me, nor go against my will. Your mind and soul belong to me, little servant."

She felt her hand tighten its grip around the dagger's handle, her body refusing to move, mesmerized as she was by the man in front of her.

"I shall keep this as a souvenir," he declared, lightly, taking the dagger away from her hand and cutting away the small strand of hair he held between his fingers. Bringing his mouth up to her ear, he whispered: "until our next meeting."

Then he was gone, leaving her as cold as ice, beholding his retreating shadow beneath the early morning starlight.

Curse him, she thought. Curse him and what he has become. I should have killed him when I had the chance.

But as much as she wanted to persuade herself, she knew she would have indeed never been able to kill him, and she cursed her weakness even more.

"You should have killed him."

A man's voice.

She whirled around, her usual countenance still intact.

"Deneb", she said briskly, acknowledging the other's presence. "What brings you here?"

The newcomer chose not to answer and simply crossed the way beyond the threshold of the door, contemplating the dunes, his long golden hair moving slightly along with the wind.

"Where is the girl?"

"In her room. Why this question?"

Arianne took her spot next to the man, clearly annoyed by the man's previous silence to her question.

"I came in through an open door, with no living person inside apart from you and this …"

At the words, Arianne tensed. What did he mean no living person? Then Cora and Milo…

Suddenly taken over by fear, she ran inside the young woman's room. The place had clearly been abandoned since a few hours already, and the aquamarine haired young woman begun to curse herself for her lack of vigilance.

"Arianne?"

She bit her lip in frustration, quickly moving to where her companion had called out for her.

"The two rooms are empty and it seems the two of them have left since quite some time. I can't believe I was stupid enough to leave them alone without surveillance!"

Deneb, standing by the window which had been Cora's only companion for the past few days simply nodded in agreement and made sign for her to come closer.

"His presence clearly took your vigilance away from you," he stated, coldly. "But this, is still what troubles me the most out of all I have seen until now."

He pointed his finger to where Cora had been previously drawing on the glass, and a thin sheet of ice came to cover it, revealing the signs the girl had engraved there with her fingers. And clearly enough, there written upon the window were five roman letters forming the name: "Camus."

18


	11. A Heart Of Gold

Chapter XI and probably the toughest chapter I had to deal with up to now! I won't be updating until a week now, since I'm moving away and won't have internet until then. But as I continue writing the story, I should upload very soon non the less :)

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CHAPTER XI

A HEART OF GOLD

The journey to Sanctuary had taken a bit more than a day, bringing them to its gates just before nightfall. Milo had arranged for the two of them to rest in one of Athen's numerous hotels until the night was dark enough for them to creep inside Sanctuary. There was a secret passage he had found while still a child which led from the remains of Acropolis to behind Sagittarius temple, in the heart of the Goddess's stronghold, or so he had explained to her in many details.

It was already well past midnight when Milo returned to meet her, carrying a pair of strange clothes and what seemed to her like a wig.

"What the Hell is THIS?" she asked him, bewildered, pointing at the wig disapprovingly.

Milo gave her a mocked hurt look.

"Well, I suppose I can draw a line on your thanks!"He huffed, pretending to be genuinely offended. "These are for you," he continued, pushing the small package in her arms. "They will help you pass unnoticed inside sanctuary."

She examined closely the fabrics and found a brown body suit, green leggings, pink leg warmers, a yellow sash, a silver mask and of course, the wig of pale green hair.

She wrinkled her nose in disapproval.

"You could have told me you wanted me to taint my hair in green."

For only answer, Milo raised his eyes up to the sky in despair, though Cora's answer had secretly amused him. He gestured for her to get changed and waited while she isolated herself in the bathroom to do so.

"These clothes resemble those of an Amazon from Sanctuary. It will help you pass through the remaining temples from Sagittarius to Aquarius without catching too much attention. But most of all: never let go off that mask. All women wear one in Athena's stronghold, all except the Goddess of course. Don't let people look too closely at the one I gave you though, " he continued. "This one is a simple trainee's mask whereas this person's mask has markings upon it showing her link with a special constellation."

If Milo could have seen her, he would have noticed her nodding as he spoke, trying to fit the green wig on top of her black curls as she did so.

"This is ridiculous," she winced, as she came out, clearly upset. "I resemble nothing!"

As he took in her appearance, Milo had to hide his awe and surprise for the Amazon outfit fitted her perfectly well, revealing her athletic body. The wig, though, was a complete disaster but it would suffice to do the trick. Shura, the Capricorn Saint, would surely neither hinder nor speak to them and his temple was the only one they would come across on their way to the Aquarius' dwelling. She was taller of course, and clearly older than the Ophiucus Saint but Shaina was but barely known past Cancer temple, there were few chances for Cora to be discovered.

"Don't be too severe with yourself," he said smirking. "you don't look to bad, apart from the wig of course."

Cora simply glared at him before placing the mask securely on her face.

"Let us go, shall we?"

Milo simply nodded in agreement and begun to lead the way. The Acropolis and its expensive hotels were already far from the city's moving districts and it was without any need of hiding that both cousins managed to reach the passage way's entrance which Milo had spoken about. Sand and rocks had fallen over the small entrance after all the years it had remained out of use and both had to crouch in order to finally slip inside the opening in the mountain's side. Gently, Milo took Cora's hand so to guide her around the maze of rocks and both of them begun their slow journey down to Sanctuary. But though he had used this passage many times before during his childhood, the young man was far from knowing all of its treacheries by heart and soon found himself tripping over rocks and fallen branches that came from he did not know where.

"Pah, if only we had some light!" he finally hissed in exasperation, cursing himself for not having thought about it before.

Cora chuckled and forced him to a halt.

"You should have asked earlier, cousin, for the dim light does not hinder me the least. I shall lead the way and tell you when crossroads appear."

Milo was appalled by her answer. How was it possible for her to see so well in the dark when he, a Saint of Athena, was unable to do so?

Meanwhile, Cora had taken the lead and begun scanning the walls, having noticed a few marks of paint and drawings from time to time. The light was faint, of course, but she could still decipher the main aspects of these painting, though none had represented something coherent yet. Suddenly, a great fresco appeared on the wall to her right, having her gasp in surprise. Twelve arcades had been drawn upon the smooth white wall of stone, a person neatly drawn under each one of them. Parts of it had been erased, probably because of old age as the paintings seemed to date of Antiquity, judging by the traits used for its realization. Four were still clearly visible and she squinted her eyes slightly so to better discern the details of each creation.

Under the fifth arcade was a tall red haired man, two dots clearly visible on his forehead in the stead of his eyebrows. She frowned slightly, remembering having seen a familiar face before. In the sixth arcade was a tall and beautiful woman, drawn with her eyes closed and elegant Indian clothes in different shades of magenta. The image had been done with care, and had probably been repainted in earlier days, which, she though, would explain the reason if it being so well discernable. Then her eyes caught the image of the last two figures in arcades nine and eleven. The last one represented a tall fair haired man commending to the elements of water and ice, his face beautiful and stern. Though she was sure never to have met such a similar person, she would not have been so presumptuous with the woman depicted under the ninth arcade; a woman in Greek outfit and strange aquamarine long hair, standing before a sinking city.

No, she thought, it was ridiculous. These paintings were extremely old, she was imagining things. But the resemblance had still caught her attention, and she would not let it go unnoticed.

"Milo," she whispered, "Can you see this?"

"See what?" the man asked in surprise. "I see nothing!"

"Nevermind, it must have been my imagination," she quickly added, not wanting to alarm him any further.

Milo felt she was once again concealing the truth from him, though he chose not to insist on the matter. Why couldn't she trust him fully? If only, just once in his short passage on this earth, someone tried to put his trust in him, he would truly be blessed. But somehow, he thought bitterly, it seemed as though his life as an assassin perspired from his every pore, repelling all those who might have, someday, tried to befriend or approach him. No in truth, Milo was not happy. He had never been, mostly since Aioros' betrayal. Only Camus had accepted him as a friend, though never sharing much but his presence had been already more than he would have wished for. Then, there had been Cora, and things had begun to change. He had soon realized pretending to be someone he was not in front of her would never work. In fact, he had never even tried to have a façade before her, he had been simply bare under her stare. And though he barely knew her, even doubted her being his natural and true cousin, he had been ready to lose his only friend for the sake of her happiness. And here he was, going against the law of Athena by bringing a total stranger inside Sanctuary, at the eve of a war against an usurper and a bunch of renegade Saints, simply to fulfill the request she had asked of him. To see Camus.

He clenched his fists as the image of the aquamarine haired saint appeared before his eyes. No, he could not forgive him, nor forgive himself for what he had said. There was too much to mend to ever dream of recreating a bound which had been quite fragile already in the first place.

"Milo!" came Cora's worried musical voice. "Are you all right?"

He nodded in agreement, though his stance said otherwise and she gave him a small squeeze on the arm.

"You are frightened of facing him again, are you not?" she asked, concerned.

"You don't know what I have said," he answered in a whisper, hiding the quavers in his voice.

"Milo," she urged him, "I'm sure you are exaggerating. I feel you are a man of honor and someone who can be trusted when it comes to friendship. Somehow, I feel your heart is a heart of gold."

At these words, he felt his heart melt and a small tear threatened to spill from the corner of his eye. He didn't deserve such a praise, he knew it, but to receive such a compliment was more than what he had ever got in his whole life time. And more than he would ever get, he was almost certain. How could Camus have rejected such a wonderful person? He couldn't understand. They had been like a brother and a sister in their early years, surely such bounds could not be so easily destroyed. Suddenly, he felt the cool chill of the night breeze caress his face and realized they were now close to their goal.

As usual, the Sanctuary was fast asleep when they emerged from beyond Sagittarius temple. The atmosphere, though, was one of great tension as all were awaiting the fake Athena's arrival for the next day. It would end in blood, he knew it. It always ended in crimson tides, no matter what their decisions or actions. War was ugly, no matter whose side you were on; as an assassin, he knew he was the hidden its hidden force and he hated it.

All into his thoughts, he did not realize they had by now passed Capricorn temple until he found himself face to face with the high columns of Camus' home, stopping dead in his tracks.

"I can't go any further," he declared, full of melancholy. "You had better go by yourself."

She gazed back at him, uncertain.

"But Milo, I…"

"Don't argue," he snapped, almost regretting it right away. "I… I just can't do it."

Cora finally nodded and entered into the temple's main hall, disappearing from Milo's view. He could have followed her, kept watch over her, tried to amend things with the man he had once called his friend, but no. In the end, he knew that whatever the outcome of the upcoming war, things would never be the same between Camus and Him. Never.

Meanwhile Cora had made her way inside the Aquarius temple, following the sound of what she thought was music playing. Truly enough, she soon recognized the sound of a piano playing Chopin's Tristesse*, coming from behind a distant door. Taking a deep breath, she slowly pushed the door open, barely revealing herself in the dim light of the corridor.

He was there, playing on a small and old grand piano, his back turned on her. A small candle was giving him a bit of light, set upon the piano's desk part, its light gently playing in the sway of his hair. He must have felt her presence for he quickly spun around, forsaking his music, prepared to deal with any unwanted visitor.

Upon seeing her appearance, his eyes widened slightly in surprise, and he rose from his chair in order to look at her more closely, clearly bewildered though his cold features revealed little of his surprise.

"Shaina?" he asked, warily, "are you not supposed to be on guard's duty?"

Cora finally entered the room fully, letting out a small sigh of sadness.

"No, Camus. It is not Shaina."

His back straightened slightly at this revelation. That is when she reached for her mask, letting it slip away from her face, ripping her wig away at the same time.

"It is I, Cora."

She was not sure how she had expected him to react but his silence was clearly not what she had hoped for.

Still looking at her in silence, his face emotionless as ever, he finally turned his back on her, without any other formalities.

" Get out, " he demanded, coldly.

Cora felt her heart stop in her chest, and the world seemed to crumble slowly beneath her feet.

" Camus, wait! I…"

"I said: GET OUT!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, freezing an unfortunate pot of red roses next to him.

She did not try to speak again, simply turning her heels on him and ran out of the temple, running past her cousin and down back the secret passage which would lead her back to Acropolis. She did not even turn around to answer Milo's frantic calls, threatening to awake the Capricorn Saint as he did so. She was running too fast for him, no matter how hard he tried to catch up with her. After a race which seemed to him like eternity, he finally stopped, nearby Shura's domain, panting for breath. He had heard Camus' yells ad at first thought he might have mistook her for the Ophicius Saint but when she had ran out bare headed and without her mask, he had understood; though he could not understand Camus' reaction no matter how hard he tried.

He clenched his fists and ran back resolutely to the Aquarius temple. It took him little time to find his former friend, serving himself a glass of wine as though nothing had happened. Milo gritted his teeth and plunged his fist into to wall on his right, leaving a large hole in its stead. Camus simply gazed at the impact, an empty look upon his face and continued sipping on his wine.

"What sort of monster are you, Camus, to treat her like that?" he spat, disgusted by his reaction.

"I have no excuses to give you, Scorpion. Plus, you know as well as I do that strangers are not allowed within Sanctuary. I merely did my duty," he answered, coldly.

"Is it all you see?" Milo continued, appalled by his answer. "She came all the way to see you, no matter what the risks were for her, is this nothing, even to you?"

Camus only shrugged, showing his back on him.

"Look at me when I'm talking!" Milo yelled, as he grabbed the French man by his shoulders, forcing him to look at him. "You are a real jerk, do you know that? Don't you care for anyone on this planet? Or is playing around with them all you appreciate? Is this what you like, torturing her like that?"

To his utter surprise, Camus slapped him on the right cheek, throwing him to the ground in the process.

"Shut up! SHUT UP! You know nothing, do you hear me? NOTHING about me and of my feelings!"

The Scorpio Saint chocked, spitting a bit of blood as tried getting up to his ffet again. He grinned sadly and whipped the blood away from his mouth, Camus raging just above him.

"What are you smiling at?" he glowered.

"That makes it even," the other answered, sadly. "One hit for each cheek."

"What are you talking about, I only hit you once!"

"I was not speaking of you."

Milo averted his eyes, gazing at the floor for a while. Soon, his posture changed and he felt he was once again the assassin of Sanctuary.

'You don't deserve her, Camus," he continued, bitterly, his voice trying to cover his boiling anger. "You don't even deserve the time she has given you. If only you weren't my brother in arms, I would gladly kill you on the spot!"

"Then kill me, Milo," Camus answered in despair. "I am already dead anyways."

The answer caught him off balance, having stare incredulously at his former best friend.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I have a battle to prepare for and so do you. Go back to your temple."

And Milo finally left, letting him slam the door once he had gone, but the Scorpio Saint did not leave, not just yet. He needed to know, needed to understand what had happened to the man he had once seen as his only family.

Camus had started playing again, this time something far more violent than Chopin and Milo thought he recognized the Moonlight Sonata's third movement. The melody was hard to recognize by times, making Milo wonder whether he had been right in recognizing the piece. It was only after a while that he realized Camus was banging on the keyboard, more and more frequently and each time hitting harder. Suddenly the instrument gave way and he thought he heard the shattering of wood and ivory clattering on the marble floor.

The crash was then followed by a deep and frightening silence, interrupted from time to time but a strange sound which Milo had never heard before in Aquarius temple. That was when he realized Camus was crying. The cold hearted, careless and heartless jerk that he thought the Aquarius was, was crying. Somehow, nothing had prepared him for this and he suddenly felt the urge to slip back into the room and comfort his friend, albeit all the words he had said but he knew it was not right.

Setting his hear against the wooden door, he continued to hear the Aquarius crying and amongst his sobs, he heard Camus speaking.

"I didn't have the choice," Camus was sobbing. "Tomorrow I shall die facing Hyoga and there is no alternative to that."

Hyoga. Camus' disciple. One of the renegades. So Camus had been planning to die all along? No. He could not, would not accept it. It would not be!

Hat a fool he had been, not understanding any of Camus' feelings. He had only rejected them to protect them, going all the way up to renouncing to the person he had ever cherished the most in his whole life.

He clenched his teeth in a mere attempt to hold back the tears which were now flowing freely down his cheeks. Fool of a Scorpio, he thought. Now the end is near, and you will never have the chance to rebuild this friendship you held so dear.

He knew though, it had struck Camus the hardest: losing both Him and Cora in the process.

Then it dawned on him. Scorpio temple stood before Aquarius. It would then be of no difficulty for him to take care of the boy before he ever had the chance to meet Camus. Thus he would be saved and there would be time for them to rebuild the bounds of friendship they had lost. And Cora… He hoped she had returned to the hotel without any harm. In the end, he had been the one to end up being a total jerk, not Camus. Cora had been wrong. It was not him, but Camus who had a true heart of gold.

On the other side of the door, Camus had finally noticed Milo's presence and smiled bitterly as he slowly regained composure.

_You_ _cannot save me this time, Milo_, he thought. _I will not meet Hyoga in Aquarius Temple, I will meet him in the Libra one thus by no means will you be able to stop me. I lost a lot, but I find solace knowing I shall die, delivering those I love from all the pain I have brought upon them._

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"Haha! I finally take your queen, dear brother!"

Hypnos glared at his twin, and watched mournfully as the black fool took away his white queen.

"The loops of the trap tighten around Athena's Saints," he continued, changing slightly the subject. "In the end, that boy will have been of great use to us."

Hypnos nodded and made way to move his knight.

" Adonis has proven his qualities. I think it is about time we release his spirit, don't you think? Oh, and by the way, Hypnos, check mate."

The God of Death tossed aside the white knight with his dark pawn and grinned evilly, as Hypnos sighed in frustration.

"I suppose, since you have won, I cannot truly go against your decision."

"Indeed not."

Rhadamanthys rolled his eyes in annoyance before blurting out:

"Adonis, Adonis, you speak of him all the time, yet, you have not told me who he is on this Earth and how he will be of any help to us in the first place!"

"My, Wyvern, you need to check your mythology a bit more often," Thanatos declared, dismissing him with a small movement of the hand.

"Adonis was known for being the most handsome of all mortals to have been born", Hypnos continued. "Aphrodite, falling in love with him, asked Persephone to keep guard of him until his adulthood. Unfortunately, our Queen fell in love with him as well because of his extraordinary beauty and power over women."

"That is why he shall seduce our queen, and bring her down to hell along with him," Thanatos concluded, as Radamanthys stared at him in complete shock.

"You mean to seduce Persephone back into hell, But what of her rightful husband, our lord and King?"

Thanatos smiled evilly while his brother only laughed quietly.

"Don't worry, Wyvern, the Twin Gods always think of everything."

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* "tristesse" means Sadness in English.

13


	12. Till Death Do Us Part

So sorry for the long wait! As some of you know, I just moved to South America (French Guinana to be precise) and I had to wait to finally have my connexion!

But I wasn't lazzy all this time! Though I'll have some work these days, be sure I'll be updating quite frequently ^^

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CHAPTER XII

TILL DEATH DO US PART

Cora ran blindly down the steps leading her to the Sagittarius temple, throwing away the wig in her flight, careful not to stumble on her way. Strangely enough, she did not feel the urge to cry, she felt just numb.

She tried to understand Camus' reaction but as much as she tried, she could not find a reason for his sudden change of mood. She had thought… No, never mind what she had thought. She had lost him, though she did not know why. The feelings of mortals were so fragile, so tenuous; one wondered how they could build strong bounds with one another. Still, such a small thing as feelings could destroy even to a God, just as it had destroyed her, losing herself along the way.

Curse them. Curse them all, these men who thought they could play with the feelings of others. The world could well come to an end, she did not care. All she wished for, was for this world to disappear and for a new one to be born, unmarred of men's cruelty, whether it be their wanted aim or not.

She suddenly ran into something, or was it someone at full speed, falling on the ground in the process.

"Cora?"

A woman's voice.

"Arianne?" she managed to croak.

The woman did not answer and simply sat herself beside her, pulling a thin shall of linen on her shoulders.

"I think you have had enough emotions for one day," the woman said, coldly. "Whatever passed through your mind to go running into Athena's Sacred Sanctuary like this?"

"I have no orders to receive from you!" the young woman shot back, surprised by the harshness of her tone.

Arianne gave her a suspicious look, her eyes narrowing in the process.

"What is going on with you?" she asked, her tone even.

"Nothing! I am perfectly fine; though I shall feel better once this world is finally rid of all these worthless humans who care nothing but to create pain and sufferings around them!"

At this Arianne slightly froze, her eyes widening in surprise and a slight glint of fear.

"What happened in Sanctuary?" she demanded, already frightened by what she would hear, but the girl chose not to answer.

"Nothing you need to know."

She rose to her feet, towering over the other woman, and Arianne had the brief impression that a dark cosmos was emanating from her. This was not at all what she had expected. She needed to act quickly.

"It is the Aquarius Saint, is it not?" she asked, rising to her feet.

Cora's eyes flashed briefly, but Arianne did not back away.

"Even if it was, I would not tell you. Why should I? After all, who are you to understand my feelings?" she sneered. "For all feelings are worth…"

This time, it was Arianne's eyes which flashed with anger, as she grabbed the other girl's arm rudely.

"Let go off me, you are hurting my arm!" Cora cried, as she tried to break free, but the aquamarine haired girl held tight.

"You believe perhaps the Gods are better than humans, that they do not play with others feelings, that they are above all evil? Well, let me tell you otherwise. The Gods do not care, neither of humans, nor of feelings whatsoever. They care for nothing! All they worry about is their own little power and outstretching the borders of their realms. No, trust me: the Gods are no better than humans. Humans, at least, know love."

"But love is useless, if it can only bring sufferings," Cora retorted.

"Sufferings? Yes, love brings its loan of sufferings. But mankind will always be willing to suffer for the sake of love."

"How can you believe such things? How can you even utter them?" Cora's voice had risen, almost as loud as a yell, gazing at the other woman, utterly bewildered, as she let go off her arm.

"Then let me show you why," the woman said, firmly as she set herself straight in front of the girl. "Look into my mind."

"What?"

"Do not worry, this time I will only let you access the memories which I am willing to share with you."

Cora looked at her suspiciously.

"And how shall you do this?"

"It is one of my abilities," she answered simply, clearly not wanting to go further on the subject.

Cora simply nodded, firmly, and fixed her eyes in the woman's cold aquamarine ones. Just like the first time, she felt sucked into another dimension, though she managed, by which means she did not know, to remain an outsider to the scene, this time not embodying the one whose mind she was visiting.

The image in front of her appeared rather blurry at the beginning and finally gave way to an open garden, full of wild flowers. The grass was of a deep green and the sun shone red in the evening sky.

"Arianne! Arianne!"

It was a boy's voice, though she could not see from where it came from. A young girl of about twelve came running down the alley way, her long aquamarine hair floating behind her. She was smiling and laughing, her white dress floating about her.

"Brother!" she cried out, in joy.

Then, only did she see him: a boy of about fifteen, tall and handsome with long aquamarine hair that matched the girl's. His features though, she could not make out clearly and she guessed either Arianne's memories were not well preserved, or she was not willing to let her see his face more closely.

The girl, meanwhile, had run into the elder boy's arms, holding him in a warm embrace.

"I've missed you, brother," she whispered, warmly.

"I know, Arianne. But remember: I'll be with you till deaths do us part" the boy answered with a wink, ruffling her hair briskly.

"Son, is that you?"

The voice had been deep and commending, their father's voice, Cora guessed. And surely enough, out in the shadows, she noticed a tall man standing on the threshold of the house, his long silver hair covering his eyes slightly.

"Yes, father, it is I." The boy answered, dutifully.

"Once you are done embracing your sibling, come to my study. I wish to entertain you on some matter of importance."

"As you wish, Father," the boy said, slightly bowing his head.

The image suddenly blurred and the corridor of an ancient Greek house appeared in the stead of the garden. The girl was standing before a closed door, waiting impatiently for it to open when the boy from before finally made his way out, his head down as if upset. The girl caught this immediately and her face became worried.

"I am leaving on a very important mission, Arianne," he said, solemnly. "I might not return from it at all."

"Do not say such things, brother!" the girl stuttered, panicked. "We need you here at home. I need you!"

The boy smiled fondly at his little sister, taking her in his arms.

"But you are strong, Arianne, much stronger than any of us in Swan House. Father was wrong to set his hopes on me, it was you he should have put his trust in."

The girl shook her head wildly, still holding on tight to the boy's tunic.

"I do not care how strong I will ever be, all I want is to be with you!"

The boy laughed, sadly.

" And when you will marry, will you still want me by your side?"

"I…"

The boy smirked, slightly, sadness still in his eyes.

" If I do not come back alive…"

"Don't say such things!" she cut him in his phrase, frightened. "You might bring bad omens upon you!"

"Arianne, please," he continued, trying to sooth her. "This is important for me."

The girl quietly nodded, pain still visible in her eyes.

" If I die, I want you to honor my body for my final journey."

The girl stiffened, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"You do not mean to return, do you not?"

He did not answer, simply taking her in another warm embrace.

" I love you, dear sister. And I do not deserve your love, for it makes you suffer."

"I love you because you deserve it," she answered, on the brink of tears. "And I would love you still, if I was given another chance in this life."

The image blurred again, and this time, Cora found herself in a dark circular room of white marble. The man she had supposed to be their father was standing in front of a large white stone where a body seemed to lay, covered by a white cloth and Cora begun to fear what, or rather, who was beneath it. A little boy was standing next to the man, barely five, his hair of a deep aquamarine color as well.

"How is he?" the man asked, his voice threatening to break.

"He was not a pretty sight, my lord," a man wearing rough clothes declared, bowing slightly in front of the elder man. "The guards had brought him without his head. It took all my Lady Arianne's power of persuasion to have our Sovereign give back his head."

"Does he suspect anything?" the older man continued to ask, trying to maintain his voice even.

The man shook his head.

"No, my lord. He believes your son took this initiative all by himself."

The man nodded in relief, though his face seemed to say otherwise, twisted as it was by pain.

"May I see him?"

"Certainly, my lord. M'lady Arianne has done great work so to conceal the ravages his body went through. She honored him according to our ancient rites. She needs only to set the coins on his eyes."

The man nodded and his servant removed the cloth, revealing the body of the young man she had seen in the previous scenes and Cora had to master herself for not crying out in sheer horror. She did not know the boy, nor his family, but the power of the love that had connected the brother and the sister had touched her deeper than she wished to admit. It was something she had never thought to be the witness of, for it reminded her somewhat of the feelings she had shared with Pierre in their childhood.

The man, meanwhile, had continued to gaze blankly at the lifeless body of his son before finally turning his attention to the little girl. She was completely frightened under the stern stare of the man which was her father and it was with deep caution that she moved forward to set two silver coins on her brother's closed eyes.

The man than took hold of a torch and made way to set the pyre on fire.

"I'm sorry, Aïdan" the silver haired man murmured to the little boy by his side. "In the end, I could not save him."

The image finally turned to darkness and Cora thought she would be freed of Arianne's memories but something made her want to search deeper in the woman's past.

And so, an image once more made its way before her. She found herself gazing upon a beach of soft white sand where stood a man with dark blue hair and a woman with long aquamarine locks. She guessed the woman was no other than Arianne, though much older than in the previous memories. The woman rested her head on the man's shoulder as he led her against his strong broad chest. His clothes were rich and his stature spoke of royalty. She could not discern his features well once more, though she thought this time it was due to the little light of twilight time.

The two did not speak for a long time, seemingly content to be in each other's soothing presence.

"How long will it last, this solace?" The woman finally asked, sadly. "It seems as though we have barely met that we must part once more."

The man did not answer right away, taking in a deep breath as if to catch his companion's perfume and keep it in his mind for eternity.

"I do not know Arianne. It seems as though our people are but a toy in the Gods' hands."

"First my brother, than yours. Will it never end?" she asked, her voice barely revealing her anguish.

"If only we had never been born as what we are," he murmured sadly.

"She has proven worth fighting for," Arianne continued mournfully. "But why did the others have to bring war upon us? Do they not see the sufferings they bring upon us?"

"They do not care," the man answered, bitterly. "All they care for is power. Should I ever be reborn, in another life, I would bring down their power and bring a new era of peace upon this world!"

"Do not say such things," the woman hissed, turning around so to face him. "Do you not remember what She has done for us?"

"Her, it is different. I would die for her." He retorted, solemnly.

The woman's features seemed to soften at this and she let the man take her in his arms once more.

The image blurred slightly, just as in the previous visions, setting a few hours after the discussion between the two, or so she guessed. The man was standing in front of a frail boat made out of what seemed to her like gold, boarded by two strange wings on each side of it. A tall fair haired man was standing beside Arianne, along with a young boy of perhaps thirteen with dark aquamarine hair. She did not know why, but she supposed the boy was none other than the one which had stood next to Arianne's father in her previous memory. Judging by the hair color, she supposed he was her younger brother.

"Don't go, it is folly! He will kill you once you get there!"

Arianne had been yelling at the man, clearly upset, something she had never expected to see in the tall cold aired woman at all.

The blue haired man only bowed his head in resignation, his face sad, yet resolute.

"I must try and see if I may save him; there is perhaps still a chance."

"Do not be stupid," the woman spat. "Don't you remember what he did to my brother? You mustn't go back, or he will do the same to you!"

"Arianne…"

"No! Don't you understand? He laid a curse upon us all, and those who shall die by his hand shall suffer this curse until the world is finally broken. Is this what you want, to suffer millions of lives under a demonic curse?"

"Arianne, please!"

This time, he had made way to her and was holding her tightly against him, trying to sooth her shaking body under her sobs.

" Whatever his curse, whatever may happen to me, deep in my soul, I will always remember you and I will find you. Until true deaths do us part and the world is torn into oblivion, I will always be by your side."

"My brother told me the same thing once," she said bitterly, her voice threatening to give way. "He never came back."

The man did not answer, simply bringing the woman closer to his chest, holding her close in one last embrace before finally letting go off her, making his way towards the boat.

It was strange how the relationship between these two was affecting her. She wished she had somehow been able to stop the man from departing but this was but a mere memory, there was nothing she could do but watch in total despair.

The image finally blurred completely and Cora found herself thrown out of Arianne's mind, gasping for air, as the experience had been much more undertaking than the ones she'd had before, then suddenly, all became dark.

When she came back to her senses, she noticed a fire burning nearby and she realized they were still in the secret passage beneath sanctuary, in the room where she had seen the murals on the wall. Arianne was sitting in front of the fire, her eyes lost in the flames' exquisite movements.

"I'm sorry," Cora murmured after a long moment of silence.

"Don't be", Arianne answered, shortly. "It is all the past now, anyways."

Cora seemed to think for a while, scrambling into a sitting position as she did so.

"What happened to the dark blue haired man?" she finally asked, not standing it any longer.

Arianne tensed slightly at the question, closing her eyes in the process, as if thinking whether she ought to give her an answer or not.

"We found is decaying corpse hanging by the gates of our home city," she finally answered, not wanting to gaze into the young woman's eyes; "along with that of his brother. Judging by the state of their flesh, they had been there since a very long time, the crows having almost eaten them away."

Cora gasped and thought she would be sick.

"But… Who… Who could have done such a cruel thing?" she asked.

"I thought you did not care for humans and wished to see them dead," Arianne shot back, coldly.

"I… I did," she managed to say. "But I know better. I may wish for this world to be unsullied of men's evil deeds, but I do not wish for them to suffer needlessly."

"Yet, you say you wish to see the earth unsullied of their presence. Therefore, you, yourself, wish for their suffering. Tell me, did you believe death came without sufferings?"

Cora did not respond. Death… It was something she had never before really put thought into. It had never frightened her, nor fascinated her per say. It just seemed as though it had been part of her. Something which she somehow could control. It had never seemed to her like something painful, but rather like a deliverance. Or had she always thought like that? She was not quite sure.

"I thought as much," Arianne said in a sigh. "To answer your question, it was a God who killed the two men you have seen in my memories."

Cora jerked her head up, looking at the woman in disbelief. Upon seeing her expression, Arianne only smiled sadly, nodding her head in silence.

"I had told you Gods were not perfect beings. They use humans when they need them, and dispose of them when they don't. We are but pieces on a chess board for them."

Cora seemed to meditate for a while over these words, clearly at loss for words. Arianne came to her side and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, her eyes softening.

"But you will find not all is worthless in humans," she continued, a sad smile on her lips. "A few Gods have even chosen to put their hopes in mortals and that is a rather comforting thought."

Only silence followed her statement for a while until the noise of footsteps approaching brought Arianne to her feet, as she motioned for Cora to remain seated.

"There is nothing to fear, it is only one of my companions," the aquamarine haired woman said casually.

Cora nodded in understanding and rose slowly to her feet, so to better see the newcomer.

"You did not tell me the name of the God who murdered these two men, " she asked suddenly, taking the last chance to speak one to one with Arianne before the other's arrival. "Was it… Hades?"

She thought she saw Arianne shiver at the mentioning of the name, though the woman rapidly regained her composure, her features cold and stern as they usually were.

"No, it was not Hades."

Cora was about to ask another question when their visitor finally stepped in. He was a tall man of fair complexion, his long golden hair coming down to his waist. He wore a simple garb of different hues of blue and addressed her with a silent nod before turning his attention towards Arianne.

"Arianne," he said, curtly.

"Deneb," she responded, slightly bowing her head in the process.

"The day is finally setting and the combats are now over. If you wish to see him, it is perhaps your last opportunity."

Arianne nodded in understanding, before switching her attention back on Cora, her eyes slightly shining with sorrow.

" I will not be long," she told her, evenly. "Deneb will watch over you until my return."

"Wait!" Cora cried, as Arianne was on the brink of departing. "You spoke of the day coming to its end. Since how long have I been sleeping?"

"Two days in a row, my lady," came Deneb's answer. "Though your Cosmo is very powerful, you do not yet master fully some techniques which would be, for anyone of us, more than perilous."

"Two days? But… How… Why didn't…"

"We remained in these catacombs because a battle took place in Sanctuary, it would have been too dangerous to venture out in the open, even on the outskirts of Acropolis."

Cora felt as though someone had poured a bucket of icy water upon her head and suddenly felt the urge to sit.

"A battle you say?" she murmured, slightly trembling.

Deneb nodded his head in silence.

"Fortunately for all of us, the outcome was a rather positive one although it came with many sacrifices."

Sacrifices… The word rang in her head as though someone had been ringing all the bells of Notre Dame at once.

"Camus… And Milo…"

She couldn't manage to say more, suddenly realizing that perhaps this was what death meant after all: the end of everything for someone you cared for. Flashes of the boy lying on the marble table, ready for the funeral pyre passed through her mind and she shivered in sheer horror.

Deneb simply gazed at her, unmoved before averting his eyes in another direction.

"Whatever their fates, it is no longer of your concern. Even if I knew, I would not be willing to give you an answer. I am sorry."

Cora gathered her legs against her chin, rocking herself softly as though to ease the pain. She despised feelings, she had said so, she did not fear death, this she had said as well, but she was still human with her flaws and weaknesses. Knowing she would never ever see either of them again was not something she had been ready to cope with. Not yet. Not when she was not even twenty, barely an adult.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Why was she so affected by their eventual deaths, hadn't she denied all bounds with feelings whatsoever barely a few minutes ago? What was going on with her, what was she becoming? Or rather, what had she been all this time?

Deneb looked upon her with pity and turned his attention to Arianne once more.

"You ought to be on your way," he said, blankly. "Or it will be too late."

Arianne simply nodded in acknowledgement and quickly left in the direction of sanctuary, her footsteps barely audible on the stone floor.

The sun had just disappeared behind the mountains encircling Athena's stronghold, making it easier for her to go unnoticed, her long white cape held firmly around her slick body. Quickly she ran up the stairs that led to the Pope's quarters, careful not to awaken suspicion. It was already bad enough that the Scorpio Saint had discovered the ancient catacombs leading to Athens, she did not wish risking for others to discover it.

When she finally arrived at the temple, the place was desert, apart from one large tent standing there, almost hiding the statue of Athena from view. Arianne took in a deep breath and entered the tent, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dim candle light inside it. Four beds had been laid, where each of the fallen warriors laid in their eternal slumber.

She recognized, by their armors the Pisces and Cancer saints, lying nearest to the entrance as she moved further to the back where laid in peaceful rest the accursed Gemini Saint who had been the cause of Sagittarius Aiolos' death. Silently, she went to stand above him and placed her hand on his folded ones, in a motion of peace.

"May your soul finally find peace after all this eternity of sufferings you have gone through. Until our next meeting… Gemini Saga."

She breathed in deeply, as if taking in her courage, as though repeating a series of rituals done over for so many years. Removing her hand, she finally turned around, facing the last remaining body of the deceased gold saints.

The Aquarius Saint had been laid just behind the Pisces Saint's corpse, his face peaceful, as that of a man who as fulfilled his deeds before dying. The frost had retaliated from his features, revealing his pale skin and aquamarine hair, though his body was still as cold as ice.

Gazing upon him, she felt her heart tighten.

"I am so sorry," she murmured. "This is not the life I would have wished upon you. It was not meant to be you at all…"

She felt a tear trickle down her left eye as she reached for the pouch hanging around her neck, taking out two silver coins from it.

" Until death do us part," she murmured, placing a coin on each of his eyes before laying a small kiss on his forehead.

"Wha… Who are you?"

The voice had caught her off guard, letting her cape slip to the floor as she whirled around to face the newcomer. Of all intruders, he had been the one she less expected to find her: Scorpio Milo.

Milo had only wanted to pay his last respects to his best friend, to simply be alone and away from other people's stares so to let go of his tears he had held now for too long.

After Saga's defeat, he had run to Aquarius temple, searching around in Camus' belongings before the brat would show up, taking all he wished from the temple that had belonged to his master.

He was not a robber. He had just wanted to take something to remember his friend, only to remember him. As he had thought, Camus had not had many belongings but in one of the drawers, he had finally found what he was looking for: Camus' diary and an old rotten book he had seen him often reading from time to time: Albert Camus' L'Etranger. The book, he had kept preciously and set in his own bedside table's drawer, passing his fingers through the pages from time to time, remembering how Camus would do so whenever they would be having an evening together around the fireplace in Aquarius Temple. The diary, on the other hand, had been the one to reveal him so many things from Camus' past and about how the man had felt all during his all too short life. Many things he knew he would never cope with and somehow wished he had never known, such as Camus' determined decision to die in this battle against Hyoga. He had not understood this, he had even hated him for not telling him the truth about Saga. How he had cried out in despair on discovering how Camus had known all along of the Gemini Saints betrayal. Because of Camus' silence, he had murdered innocents only for the sake of one man's folly, thinking he was acting for the greater good. How could Camus have let him do this?

And Cora... Just when he had thought he had understood Camus' cold demeanor towards her, he had had to discover this.

And now all was lost forever, without any chances of redemption. He would never have the chance to rebuild a precious friendship he had held so dear for years. Never would his heart heal from this gnawing pain and frustration of having lost all that was dear to him. Of course, there was Mu… and Aldebaran and Aiolia… Shaina's ongoing fits of rage and Marin's soft demeanor but none of them would ever replace Camus. Never.

And now, all he had wished for was to say one last farewell to the man he had not often enough called his brother when he had had to fall on an intruder, hovering over his friend's dead body.

She had jerked back in surprise at his words, revealing her features in the dim light of the tent. He immediately recognized her as the Amazon who had been keeping watch over Cora on Polyaigos Island but though he had seen her before, he suddenly had the impression of discovering her anew.

Standing just next to Camus' motionless form, he realized something which had not caught his attention before.

"You… What…"

The words remained captive in his throat, refusing to come out. Her hair, this deep aquamarine hue, the same as Camus'. It was unbelievable he had not noticed this before. Even her eyes shone with the same steel cold glint as that of the former Aquarius Saint. Something even in her face was similar, he was sure of it; He needed to know who she was, why she was here. Perhaps she had seen Cora? She needed to know what had happened. She needed to!

Suddenly the woman began to run rapidly towards the exit, pushing him away from the entrance.

"Wait!" he yelled, trying to take a hold of her arm as she passed him by.

"Please, don't leave! Why were you here? Where is Cora? Is she alright? Tell her… Tell her for Camus. She needs to know!"

Then his voice broke, the woman already far away from him. Tears began to fall from his eyes in heavy drops.

"Please…" He murmured amidst his tears… "Tell her… the truth…"

Slowly he moved towards the motionless body of the Aquarius saint, his view blurry because of all the tears he had been spilling and he finally noticed the two silver coins set upon Camus' closed eye lids. So this was what the woman had done, offering Camus two silver coins so to pass safely over the river Styx onboard Charon's barge, as did the Greeks in times long past.

With a bitter smile upon his lips, he tried rubbing away his tears with one hand while the other groped for one of the coins, slowly bringing it to his eyes so to better see.

"Milo?"

Athena's soft voice. He turned around and made way to kneel before his Goddess but she quickly motioned for him to stand up.

"I am so sorry Milo." She murmured, regretfully.

"Do not be, Athena. Camus did what he believed was right; I was the one foolish enough to believe I could counter his plans."

He felt the tears threaten to spill again and he tried as best he could to hold them back. Suddenly, he felt the Goddess's warm embrace encircle him in a soothing posture. For a moment, they both remained like this, the powerful goddess comforting her mortal saint's aching heart.

When she finally let go of the Scorpio Saint, Athena suddenly noticed one coin on Camus' closed eyes.

"Milo," she asked, startled, "are you the one who has set two coins on Camus' eyes for the safe passage over Stix?"

"No, my lady," he answered in shame. "A stranger came in and placed them on his eyes before leaving. I am sorry I was not able to stop her." He added, lowering his eyes.

Athena simply nodded, laying a comforting hand on the man's shoulder before gently taking the other coin away from his hand. Looking at it carefully, Milo slowly felt her cosmo flare as in surprise and alert.

"What is it, lady Athena?" he asked, his voice still slightly quavering.

"The coins are old, very old," she said. "Look by yourself."

The Scorpio saint narrowed his eyes so to better catch the piece's details. It was a fine coin of silver, marked with a large swan in its middle, with engraved beneath it the words: "Swan House" in ancient Greek.

"Flip the coin around," Athena commended, and Milo did as he was told.

That was when he finally saw what had so much surprised the Goddess in the first place. Engraved on the other side was a trident and encircling it, still in ancient Greek, the words: "Royal Oceanic Kingdom of Atlantis."

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Thanatos' hand banged on the chess plate, scrambling all the pawns in every direction.

"What do you mean, he managed to counter our plan? How could a mortal do this? He shouldn't have been able to in the first place!"

"Relax, brother," came Hypnos' casual voice. "look at what you've done. For once, I was winning against you."

He sighed in frustration and began picking the pieces up.

"How can you ask me to relax? Our plans fall almost to pieces now!"

"Ah Thanatos, you are always too eager! Do not worry, I have taken my dispositions. I have another pawn to play and this one will not fail. He has been rather handy until now too, don't you think?"

He eyed his brother, smiling slightly.

"Aaaah," came Thanatos' reassured voice. "THAT pawn… Yes… He may be handy still."

"We will still have to deal with that girl… you know which I mean. She has been quite a pain for too long." Hypnos continued.

"Ah… The one with the Atlantean coins… Charon was quite surprised!" He let out an evil laugh, remembering Charon's face as he had handed him the two silver coins.

"Atlantean coins? May I see them?"

The twin Gods looked surprisingly at each other before turning their attention back on Rhadamanthys.

"Of course," Thanatos declared, as he handed the Judge the two silver pieces.

The Wyvern's face suddenly paled before his eyes narrowed in sheer anger.

"This is another of her games!" he spat, surprising the two Gods. "I will take care of her, have no fear."

And on these words, he was gone, leaving the two Gods shrugging in incomprehension, wondering what might have passed across the Wyvern's head once more.


	13. Meetings At The Cape

This time, I deeply and profoundly apologize for the time this has taken me to update. I hope I have not lost too many readers along the way, as I would deeply regret that. Hopefully, I will be updating more frequently from now on and that, for two reasons: first, I am on sick leave since I fell in my bathroom (nothing serious, I didn't break a limb) but I did hurt my back and require complete rest for at least a month; the second reason is that this chapter turned out to be the hardest write as it was the turning point of the story( as you will discover while reading it.)

I did not wish to fall into clichés and hope I avoided that and also did not wish to go too fast. I also needed to focus more around the character of Cora as Arianne was beginning to take a lot of space into the story (even if it is important for the plot ^^ ) Also that is why this chapter might end up being the longest one I will ever write for this fic.

Anyways, keep on the lookout for the next chapter which is due before the end of the week. :)

* * *

CHAPTER XIII

MEETINGS AT THE CAPE

So many dead, Deneb though bitterly, as he kept on running, Cora keeping up closely behind him. So his curse had finally brought it all to this. In the end, this war would perhaps not be won and their long wait would have been in vain. He clenched his teeth, swallowing back his tears and frustration. He could not allow his pain and fears to show, not now, and not in front of her. He turned around, managing in time to regain his usual cold demeanor and came to a halt.

"We will stop here for now, my lady," he said, curtly. "Lady Arianne should rejoin us in no time."

Cora simply nodded, her features expressionless as ever since they had left the catacombs of Sanctuary. She was no longer wearing the training garbs Milo had lend her two days ago, having traded it for a common blue garb of ancient Greek style. Her dark hair fell around her like a black shroud obscuring her features and thoughts. She was not aware of it, yet Deneb had for a while the fugitive impression of a dark cosmos emanating from her. The feeling, however, soon vanished and the man preferred to discard it as a mere trick of his senses. He knew, still, that they all stood on the brink of disaster.

They had needed them all, such had been the prophecy. Now that some had been lost, it all rested on her decision. If they failed, then all would be over and their task: remain unfulfilled. He shivered slightly and slumped behind a column, not daring to look back at her, afraid of what he might find in the look of her eyes.

Perhaps they had been wrong to lie to her, to refuse to tell her the truth. Yet, what would their master have done in their stead? Would he have revealed to her the secrets they had managed to keep for so many years, at the risk of her using it against them? There was no certainty of course; the future was always in motion. No prophecy would ever be utterly truthful apart from the Pithy's own words and the Temple of Dellos remained empty; no priestess no longer dwelt in those abandoned halls of stone. Apollo had chosen to abandon them since that fatal day. Since the day they had committed the unforgivable.

He shivered once more, though this time more strongly than before. He had not meant to do it, he thought, trying to obscure the memories assaulting his mind. He had never wanted to bring such death around him, it had not been his intent.

He passed a tired hand across his eyes, no longer trying to hide his weariness. At night, he could still hear their cries echoing in his mind, as the waves loomed over their heads, their eyes staring at him in disbelief as the walls and houses came tumbling down in a sickening cracking sound. And He had simply laughed, as in triumph though his kingdom laid bare before him. He had mocked and cursed them. At the beginning, he had taken His reaction as a mere jest, a foolish flow of words before meeting one's end. And yet, after so many years, he could feel that curse catching up with his soul, threatening to engulf him into the darkest of nights, offering him a final peace away from those haunting memories which had kept him awake for so many nights.

Suddenly, he felt a warm touch upon his arm and turned around in surprise, removing his hands from his eyes.

Cora looked at him with concern, forsaking for a while the thoughts which had been troubling her own mind. Knowing two of those she most loved had perhaps left this world for good was something she still needed time to accept. But this growing disdain of mankind and its futilities was beginning to frighten her, as though she were just discovering a part of herself she had ignored for far too long. She needed to set her thoughts on something else, bring herself to some use. If she could, by any means, settle the pain this man seemed to be going through, it would leave her less time to roam about her own thoughts and fears.

"You should not be lingering here in my presence, my lady," the blond finally said, averting his eyes away from hers.

"But… My Lord," she politely whispered, "you seemed in great pain. I was trained as a healer by your own master. Surely I can be of some help to you."

Deneb turned his attention back to her, slightly taken aback. How could one, so linked with the world of darkness and its ordeals, still behold a heart so pure?

He shook his head, a faint smile growing upon his lips.

"I fear not, my lady. The curse I carry lies deep within my bones. It has been here since far too long to be cured, even by the likes of you."

Cora's features grew solemn and her cosmo about her begun to grow, making the man feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Please," she demanded, her voice stern. "I believe it is I who may be only judge of such a thing. Let me at least, try."

Realizing the sternness in her voice, she quickly chose to apologize for her behavior, abashed by her own words.

"I am sorry," she declared, confused, "I shouldn't have spoken to you in such a way. I … Wanted to be of some help if possible, is all."

Deneb simply looked back at her, seriousness plainly visible upon his features.

"No, my lady. I will tell you what is happening. You are simply learning to cope with what you truly are."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused and slightly frightened by the tone of his voice.

"You are not a mere healer, you must have realized this," he continued. "You are stronger than any of us, your cosmo is so powerful it stopped the attack of a wraith!"

She shook her head in denial.

"That was pure chance!" she argued.

"Pure chance?" he smirked. "There is no pure chance against the likes of Radhamanthys. Your Aquarius friend would not have stood a chance without his cloth, yet you managed to break the attack without any protection."

She was beginning not to like the course this discussion was taking. What was the man trying to tell her, that she was, after all … No, that could not be it. There had to be another explanation.

"But... You do not wear any cloth," she answered, trying to reassure herself. "You and I are both apprentices of Hermon, perhaps are we gifted with a special type of cosmo."

"No!"

Deneb's answer cut her in the middle of her phrase, surprising her.

"No, you and I are very different," he continued. "Herme… Hermon takes no apprentices. I only accepted to be at his service under the orders of the One I vowed allegiance to ages ago. Even I, once wore a cloth, I am simply too old now to be the one wearing it. Another took the place that I once held." He averted his eyes, as if he wanted to hide his emotions from her, or so she thought. "You, are different. He took you under his protection until you were ready to awake to your true identity, in order for you to make the right decision."

Cora stared at him in sheer horror.

"The right decision for what?"

"The decision to choose the right side to fight on for the next Holly War. The right one being theirs, of course."

The voice had been soft and casual, yet it still sent shivers down the spine of the blond headed warrior. Cora leapt to her feet in surprise, spinning around so to face their visitor but found herself unable to move once in front of the man himself.

The newly arrived chuckled slightly.

"What, do you not recognize me? It has been years, I admit, but still."

The man came closer to her, his white robes flowing about him in a very royal way. His features were fair, with semi long hair falling slightly above his eyes.

"Do not speak to her!"Came Deneb's voice, in a sheer warning.

"And what if I choose to answer?" Cora defied him, her cosmo suddenly flaring.

Deneb only bowed down his head, not wanting to enter a confrontation with the young woman, silently cursing himself for his lack of attention. Hermes would be furious once he would have word of this.

The man laughed upon hearing her answer and chose to come closer to her, now but a few paces away.

"You are still as beautiful as in my memory," he continued, "and as powerful, I deem."

"And who, pray tell, might you be?" she asked, still on her guards. The more and more she looked upon this man, the more she felt in confidence, although some part of her screamed for caution, that the one she remembered had changed and at some point been her foe. But her foe for what, she could not remember.

"Who I am?" the man feigned innocence and hurt, but the young woman discarded it as a mere jest of his. "But, my dear, I am your uncle of course."

Cora's eyes widened in disbelief, as the man came closer to her, laying his hands upon her shoulders and looking at her with concern.

"I see they have not told you anything about your past. You are a Goddess my dear, your name itself states it quite enough. You are Cora, better known as Persephone, daughter of Zeus and Demether and therefore my niece."

Breaking free from the man's embrace, Cora swirled her attention towards Deneb who had sunken to his knees, not daring to look at her any longer.

"Is this true?" she demanded. "Tell me, is this all true?" she yelled.

Deneb did not dare raise his head, shaking from head to toe.

"It is true, my niece," the man continued. "The truth was hidden from you for your own protection until your divine essence would awaken. This happened on the day you first used your cosmo. Part of the truth was then revealed to you but you were led to believe otherwise. In order for you to not be by the side of your husband for the last Holly War; so your power would not strengthen his own against the army of Athena."

Cora began to stumble, moving slightly away from the one who claimed to be her uncle.

"My lady…" Deneb pleaded, rising to his feet, "please… I … I can explain!"

"I need none of your explanations, mortal," she snapped. "I want those of the one you serve. And," she continued, leaning her hand for balance against one of the broken pillars beside her, "I do not need your 'soothing' presence either, 'uncle.' Just leave me alone!"

"Now, now, Cora…"

"I said enough!"

The man in white simply stopped, watching her intently as she whipped away the tears from her eyes in rage.

"I do not wish to speak to neither of you. Just … Leave me alone!"

The young woman suddenly spun around and ran away from them, engulfing herself into the ruins of the ancient temple which stood there, in need of solitude and time to think over these last revelations. She had been only a pawn in their hands. Who was she to trust? They had all lied to her! Camus and Milo… They were perhaps the only ones to have been true with her, who had never hindered anything from her knowledge. Or so she hoped. As for Arianne… She did not know what to think. The woman had trusted her enough as to share parts of her past with her, surely she was worthy of some trust, even if the woman had been hiding the truth from her as well.

She finally stopped and yelled out in rage, letting herself fall to the ground in the process. Cora… Of course, she should have thought about it. Cora had been Persephone's name before her abduction. It was her real name. She had forgotten the reasons which had led her to choose to reincarnate into the body of a mortal, thus knowing what a mortal life was before returning to her divine nature but if this was her chance to avoid being chained to hell forever, then surely it was worth it. Btu then again ... That was what they all wanted of her, it was not her own choice; If she wanted to make a real choice, she needed to go to Hell and find out for herself. And Camus… What if he had found out who she truly was and rejected her for this very reason? He had always been of the clever type after all; it would not have surprised her if he had known all along. Slowly, warm tears began to trickle down her cheeks and she did not even bother to brush them away.

"Father!" she yelled out suddenly in despair, raising her fists to the sky, "what is it you want of me?"

But no answer came. What a great father the God of Gods was indeed, she thought bitterly.

"Cora?"

Her heart began to beet faster as she recognized the owner of the voice. Perhaps the God of Gods had not forsaken her after all, she thought as she let the man take her into his arms, her pale wet cheeks falling into contact with the hard and warm golden steel of his armor.

"Cora," he urged her, his voice betraying his concern. "What happened to you?"

"Milo," she managed to utter amidst her tears. "This is so dreadful. How am I ever going to live with this?"

She felt the knight's muscles tense as she said this, though he did not say a word; reaffirming his hold on her instead.

"We will find a way," he whispered back, his voice heavy with grief. "We will find a way."

Somehow she felt they were not thinking about the same thing but the young goddess did not care. All she needed for now was his soothing and reassuring presence. The two remained for a long time in each other's embrace and would have stayed so for longer had not a disrupting explosion of cosmos aroused them from their grief.

Milo was the first one on his feet, all senses on alert, his red nail shining in the dying lights of the day.

"What was that?" The young woman asked, worried.

The Scorpio saint shook his head in silence, probing the desolated landscape in search of any other signs of disruption but all was silent.

"I want you to stay here while I go take a look around the area," he whispered as she came closer to him.

"That is out of the question", she answered back. "I am not leaving you alone to face whatever this was."

She dared not tell him yet that she beheld a power far greater than his own for she feared to enter into complicated explanations for which they both did not have the time at the moment. Rapidly, she checked that neither her would be uncle nor her protector were in sight, secretly wishing that this explosion of cosmo was none of their doing.

Suddenly, another explosion of power shook the ground of the ancient temple, threatening to bring down its remaining columns.

"It came from the east!" The Scorpio saint suddenly yelled, running in the said direction at the same time, Cora on his heels.

"I thought I had told you to wait for me," he cried out as he noticed her presence by his side.

But Cora did not answer. They had arrived at the area from which the explosions had occurred but nothing had prepared her to this. Lying before her eyes were Arianne and the specter from Siberia.

* * *

The day had already set when Arianne had finally caught up the trail of Deneb and Cora. She had cast away her cloak and hurriedly set a golden pin amongst her aquamarine curls to keep her hair away from her face, so to stop the wind from bringing them relentlessly in front of her eyes. She had been able to trace down the mark of their cosmos across the deserted olive gardens on the outskirts of Athens all the way to the coast line and she knew it would not be long before she finally met up with them again.

She wondered for what reason her companion had run at full speed; could they have been threatened in any way? Her first guess was someone of Sanctuary who could have noticed them on their way out of Athena's stronghold. The catacombs were no longer a secret after all and she had been discovered herself. Yet, she had felt no bright cosmos energy anywhere near the encircling fields and the more she thought of it, the more she felt she was missing something.

Ahead of her, the ruins of an ancient Greek temple were beginning to show, mourning figures in a devastated night sky. She slowed down her pace a little, feeling the cosmos of her two companions ahead, taking in the place where she was now standing. She recognized the place all too well and begun to shiver slightly. She remembered having stood at the entrance of this temple for what seemed like centuries ago, receiving the adornments according to her status. He had been there, in all his might and glory, the world held tightly in his fist, and she had not foreseen then, that their animosity would continue in a battle of a thousand years, long after these halls would have lost their splendor and glory. Even then, she had hated Him, knowing His role in the loss of those she had held dear, but she had never imagined His cruelty to be as vile as His brother's.

She felt a lone tear trickle down her placid features and closed her eyes, swallowing back her memories. Now was not the time to shed tears, she thought. There was still hope for a better future, even now in their darkest hour, as long as they could see the light.

She closed her eyes tightly and breathed in deeply.

"Remembering your past glory?"

She swirled around in surprise to where the voice had come from but only met the dark night sky cut out between the ruins of the ancient columns.

" Perhaps you ought to have raised your head, don't you think?"

The stranger suddenly landed in front of her, making her jump slightly backwards, all senses on alert. Why had she not sensed his presence before? It was impossible for a mortal, let alone a specter, to conceal his cosmo from her senses.

The stranger only smirked and made way to remove the helmet hiding his features.

"I suppose your senses are less alert when it comes to familiar cosmos," he said, revealing a fair face and golden locks. " Surprised to see me, Arianne?"

Suddenly, Arianne felt her blood run cold and only answered with a blow of her own.

"How dare you come upon me like this, Wyvern Rhadamanthys?" she spat, keeping her distances with the judge of Hell as best she could, her impact only leaving a fuming crater in the spot where he had been standing a few seconds ago. The Wyvern only chuckled softly for all answer, landing a few paces away from the hole she had just made.

"Now, now, Arianne, we both know it is no use for us to quarrel, do we not?" he mused, playing with a white flower hanging on one of the crumpled pillars next to him. The flower slowly withered until it fell, emptied of all life at his feet.

"Oh, what a pity. It is so strange how life upon this earth is short and fragile," he murmured, gazing at the fallen flower at his feet.

"What are you here for, Rhadamanthys?" she asked, coolly. "As far as I know, Hades has not yet awoken to fight this Holy War."

Rhadamanthys only smirked, barely acknowledging her.

"You know very well why I am here, Arianne," he sneered casually.

"Enlighten me," she commanded, clearly not amused.

"Why… I am here to retrieve my Queen from your grasp of course! Persephone… Is she not here with you?"

Arianne's eyes suddenly began to betray her panic. Could he have already taken care of Deneb and kidnapped the young Goddess? No, that was impossible. She could still feel her companions' cosmos, far out in the distance and she secretly hope neither of them would get the idea of coming for her if they had felt the flare of her cosmo on her previous attack. She could not risk having Cora meet with Rhadamanthys a second time, for they would certainly not be as lucky once more without the presence of their master.

"Aaaaah," the man murmured triumphantly, "I see I was not mistaken. Now tell me, what will you do to hinder me? You see, I am faithful to Hades only and I do not believe Persephone's return would be to the liking of all in Elysion. Thus, I might be willing to make an exception if you finally accepted the offer I made to you so many years ago. Do you remember?"

Arianne felt her hair rise in the back of her neck. So this was all it was about. This man was willing to let go of his duty only to fulfill his personal desires? What sort of being was he?

The judge simply laughed softly.

"You are wondering where I put my allegiance don't you? I only serve the Emperor Hades. Unlike my companions, I have made vows to the Emperor of the Underworld alone. I owe nothing to his wife. Yet I know her presence would be a great asset to our armies when the time for the Holly war comes, mostly after all the losses Sanctuary has had to deal with these last days. Oh, that poor Gemini," he went on, watching her intently in the hope of seeing her façade slip away. " It must have been terrible for you. But not as much as for the loss of Aquarius I deem, seeing how you foolishly left two Atlantean coins upon his closed eye lids for his safe journey beyond Styx."

Taking out two silver coins from his pocket, he threw them in her direction as they clattered in a soft crystalline sound upon the broken marble floor. She made no move to retrieve them, and simply continued facing him, her features unmoved, although the man felt something in her countenance had finally been broken. He smiled, evilly, savoring his triumph.

"Did you truly believe it would go unnoticed? That I, of all those living in the Underworld, would not recognize them for the symbol of your household?"

Silently, she bowed to pick up the two fallen silver pieces before rising up again, facing him defiantly.

"As always, you are too foolish to understand, are you not?" she spat, bitterly. " The evidence lies there just before your eyes and yet, you manage not notice it. You are even more stupid than I thought."

"You have not answered my question!" he snarled, running up to her and grabbing her forearm with all his strength.

"I have become tired of waiting, and I believe you do not truly have a choice left now, do you not?"

For all answer, she flung her hand across his face with all her cosmo flaring, making him fall upon his knees and releasing her in the process.

"What have you done with Aquarius?" She demanded, trembling with anger.

"Ah", he smirked, whipping away the blood from his split lips, "so it all comes to this, hum? Relax, then. Aquarius is right where he ought to be, resting in peace in the Halls of Hypnos, his lovely features set forever in the eternal glory of marble white. Oh do not react so violently," he quickly added upon seeing her features tense at his revelation. "He owes this only to your precious pieces of silver. His soul would now be lost in the mist separating the world of the dead and that of the living if it weren't for you; just like that of Gemini. Although, he must be quite used to it by now don't you think? Loosing his mind one more time…"

"Shut up!" She screamed, surprising even herself in the process as she embedded her arm into a nearby pillar. Her reaction cut short of Rhadamanthys' laughter, as he finally chose to rise from his fallen position. Crossing the few paces that separated them, he went to place himself before her, his hot breath palpable on her bare neck.

"Tell me, did you really believe one could deliver himself from the curse of a God?" he whispered, coldly. "There is no escape, once you have fallen from their grace, they will hunt you down until your soul is utterly broken beyond repair. But," he continued, his voice becoming sweeter, "If you give me what I want, I may consider offering my help, though I am afraid for them, it is already too late."

"You disgust me," she spat, pulling away from him. "I will always refuse you, no matter the costs."

"Hu, is your loyalty to him so precious that you would risk loosing this war for the sake of long past promises? If so, then you are more a fool than I have thought."

"You are wrong, Wyvern. His presence has always been an asset to us and will continue to be until the end. This man, shall be the end of you," she declared, pointing a defiant finger in his direction.

"Only the Pithy has the power to profess and she has long gone and fallen from Apollo's grace," he warned her, taking his fighting position, seeing as the woman was by no means willing to cooperate any longer.

"This is no prophecy, Wyvern. It is your doom!" she shot back, her eyes flashing with anger.

"I will be awaiting his visit, then", he managed to say amidst his laughter. "And I shall bring his broken body to your feet once I will have finished him off."

For all answer, she began to burn her cosmo to its paroxysm, her features once more stern and cold as everlasting ice.

"It is useless to fight," he warned her, mimicking her action as his dark aura rose about him. "Without your cloth, you will not be able to withstand my attack!"

But Arianne was no longer listening to him. Cooping her hands together, she began focusing her cosmo into an attack, never setting her eyes off her enemy.

"Galact….

"Greatest Caution!"

His attack was swifter, taking her off guard. She had not finished uttering her attack that she was sent flying against one of the nearest pillars, breaking herself into pieces in the process.

"You have lost," came Rhadamanthys' fatalistic tone. " And once your broken body arrives beyond Styx, there will be no means for you to escape from me."

Suddenly a flash of raw power came to meet her adversary, the light of a powerful and bright cosmo.

"Deneb" she murmured, and all became dark.

* * *

"You!"

Rhadamanthys' yell was heavy with hanger and hate, clasping his hand against the arm which the other's attack had managed to touch.

"Why must you always be the one to counter my plans?"

The Scorpio Saint simply gazed upon him with surprise and disgust, his nail still shining bright from its latest attack.

"Are we supposed to be, in any ways acquainted?"

The specter only smirked.

"Oh yes we are, Scorpio, oh yes we are. Perhaps not in this life yet, but that is only a matter of seconds. Greatest…"

But before the Wyvern could finalize his attack, he found himself thrown against a pillar, is breath short, and realized he must have had at least two ribs and an arm broken. Where on earth had that Scorpio brat come up with such a power? Slowly, he raised his head in bewilderment, still groggy from the blow he had just received and suddenly cowered in fear.

"Mmmmm… My … My .. My queen… I…."

"Silence, wraith! How dare you speak to me after our meeting in Siberia!"

Milo could only watch in bewilderment. He had guessed for quite some time that Cora beheld a great strength and potential when it came to cosmo and had even been surprised that she had not been chosen to train as a Saint at a younger age but never had he suspected the sweet and gentle hearted woman that he knew to possess such a powerful and dangerous attack. Even he was able to recognize the mark of a goddess when he saw one and realizing it, he began to fear. The pages of Camus' journal had perhaps beheld the truth after all. He knew he had come here for answers, he had wanted to know the truth but now that the truth was being given to him, he was beginning not to like the taste of it.

"My.. You.. your Majesty.. Please! It was only a mistake. I did not mean to bring harm upon you," the specter continued to plead in despair.

Milo felt his hair rise upon the nip of his neck. He knew he ought to have done something, make this all stop, but there was absolutely nothing he felt like being capable of doing apart from watching in silence as the truth, the bitter and terrible truth unraveled before his eyes.

Two cosmos suddenly made their way behind him, one of gold and one dark and majestic, quite stronger than the first, but neither made way to stop the conversation unfolding before them. He tried to lurk over his shoulder but he was only met by darkness and guessed the two owners of these cosmos had chosen to remain hidden in the darkness.

Meanwhile, the young goddess simply stared back at the Wyvern, her eyes cold as steel.

"Not upon me, but upon Aquarius Camus then?" she snapped back, coolly.

At this, Radhamanthys felt his chances of survival suddenly decrease.

"I was not especially looking forward to bringing harm upon Aquarius, my Lady. I was merely trying to done my skills."

"By killing others?"

Radhamanthys bit his lips at the remark, realizing his choices of words had perhaps not been as wise as he had hoped.

"That is not what I meant, your Highness."

"And now, you attack the one who has been giving me a shelter over the past few months. It seems as though you enjoy destroying all that is dear to me."

The specter started to feel a cold sweat trickled down his features.

"My … My queen, I would never…"

"Silence! How dare you to answer me without permission!" she yelled, her emotions taking the best of her. "Tell me, Wyvern, is it you and your cronies who are to blame for the attack on Sanctuary and its losses?"

Rhadamanthys suddenly felt a thrill cross his body. His chances to survive were after all not so dim.

"Me? Why I see your Highness has not been told the full account of this story."

Cora's eyes narrowed at the remark but the specter had caught her full attention.

"Go on," she ordered.

"Athena's own Saints fought against one another, the Goddess having been betrayed by one of her Saints who managed to deceive his pairs into attacking her and a bunch of Saint brats loyal to her. Some of them even went up to killing innocents for what they believed to be the greater good, am I not correct, Scorpion?"

At this, Cora spun to face her cousin in bewilderment but upon seeing his dump struck figure, she knew the specter's words were true.

"How could you?" she cried in despair. "I had taken you for a true heart of gold. How could someone like you have done this?"

"Cora… I…"

"No, Milo, don't speak! I have heard enough! I realize Athena's Saints are no greater than Hades' specters. And you would have wanted me to fight by your side?" she asked, her voice shaking with pain and disappointment. "I feel as though you have all betrayed me."

"Cora!" Milo yelled amidst the tears which were beginning to trickle down his tanned features, "Please, you need to know how it all happened!"

"Knowing the reasons will not bring these innocents back," she shot back, coldly, averting her eyes from his prostrate figure.

"Cora, please… You may blame me for what I have done but Camus never committed any acts of sin against innocents. He remained true to his values of love and protection of the weak until the end."

At this, Cora ticked slightly but did not turn around.

"The end? What do you mean?" her voice slightly quavering and betraying her concern.

"Cora… He…."

"What the Scorpion is trying to tell you, my queen, is that the young Aquarius is dead."

"Dead!"

Cora's features suddenly paled though how she restrained her tears from spilling she did not know.

"Killed by his very own student, I hear," the specter went on. "What a sense of honor these Saints of Athena have, I wonder…" he trailed on.

Suddenly he felt his body being raised up from the ground and found himself facing the goddess almost nose to nose.

"Where is he now?" she demanded coolly.

"In the depths of the Halls of Hypnos, your Higness," he managed to croak, feeling as though n invisible hand was holding him by the throat, disabling him from breathing normally. "In the gardens of Elysium. But even there, the dead may not converse with the Sovereigns of Hell."

"We shall see about that," she hissed, as she let him drop to the floor in a loud clatter of metal.

"Take me to the Underworld," she commended. "At once."

Rhadamanthys felt his pulse accelerate in sheer joy. The twin Gods would owe him on this one.

"I… With pleasure your Grace, but... I cannot enter Elysium by your side without being in the possession of something belonging to Elysium itself."

At this, Cora ripped away the small pouch which had been hanging around her neck and threw it in the specters direction.

"This should suffice," she declared, shortly. "It is a pouch fool of Elysium's Pomegranate seeds."

The Specter simply nodded and offered the young woman his hand, the one whose arm had not been broken during the battle.

"Cora, please!"Milo cried out, in one last attempt to stop her, but the goddess did not turn back.

"Cora is dead, Scorpion. Tell your Goddess to prepare for war. Hades and Persephone shall be waiting for her and her army."

And on those last fatal words, the Goddess and the specter disappeared from his view, leaving him but his eyes to cry and his mouth to curse.

On and on he cried out their names: that of his cousin and that of his long lost friend, begging them for forgiveness amidst his broken tears. He did not feel the two strangers approach him, nor did he feel one of their hands enclosing itself upon his forehead and suddenly, all became dark. A soothing and forgetful darkness.

* * *

"Did you need to do this?" Deneb spat as the other man in white went to bend down upon the fallen Arianne.

"Do what?" the other answered, clearly agassed.

"Erase his memories. Was it really necessary?"

"You know as well as I do that it is better for him not to have any memories of tonight. It would only destroy him and rip Athena off of one of her saints."

"And when has this ever mattered to you?" the blond answered.

"Why, since my Brother has found interesting in betraying me. I may not be the God you had wished for, but I am less cruel than he is."

"Less cruel? Do I need to remind you what you have done?" Deneb had not meant to yell, but hearing such things was beyond his strength. "You have cursed us all," he went on, "and some of us still endure this curse you have laid upon us."

The other man simply shrugged, and continued to tend to the aquamarine haired woman.

"Things change, Deneb, and the curse will soon come to an end. I have felt something for your little goddess. Something I had not felt since long. This boy whose body is now mine, has shown me some quite disturbing things."

He laughed slightly as he stood up, holding Arianne tightly in his arms.

"What are you doing?" the blond asked, suddenly worried.

"Whatever the outcome of this new war I am wedging, I am not planning to let my brother win. If your little Goddess manages to win against me once more, then I shall lend her my help against Hades' forces."

"Why not ally yourself to her now then?"

"Because," the man smirked, "I prefer my way of ruling than hers. This world needs to be cleansed in order for a new one to rise again. But this, your Goddess does not seem to agree with. Still, I would prefer for this world to remain as it is, albeit its rotten state, rather than have it turn into a world of darkness set to the image of Hades."

"Then the war is already lost," Deneb spat. "They have now Persephone by their side, all because I was not wise enough to keep her away from you!"

The man simply shook his head and turned away, facing the ocean. The sky was by now utterly black as ink, the stars and the Milky Way clearly visible from where they stood.

"I am not blame, your little Aquarius prodigy is and you know it perfectly well. You knew the instant you met him, did you not?"

At this, Deneb chose not to answer, bowing his head deep in resignation.

"I thought as much," the man continued. "And do not think I have not recognized him; I know who he truly is and this, no coins from Atlantis were necessary for me to notice it. I have watched your Sanctuary for the past few months, and I know more than you might think." He sighed before adding under his breath: "Just like I know my niece better than any of you can claim."

The man then continued walking calmly to the edge of the cliff, still holding the passed out woman in his arms before turning around to face Deneb one last time, smiling back at him nonchalantly.

"Wait! Whatever in the world are you doing?" Deneb yelled, making way to retrieve his comrade from the man's grasp.

"I am taking Arianne of Swan House where she belongs: back to Atlantis."

"But she is no longer your priestess," the other protested. "She forsook that path a long time ago. She does not serve you anymore."

"But I do not ask of her to serve me," the man continued, mocking the other. "She is the key to my plans, should I ever lose this upcoming battle. And you shall thank me for it."

On this, he jumped over the cliff under Deneb's bewildered eyes. As he risked his head over the edge, he caught a glimpse of the man's white robes enveloping him and the girl like a funeral shroud and through the whistling wind of the sea, he thought he heard the man yell out to him:

"So long to you, Traitor of my kingdom: Sea Dragon Deneb!"

"And so long to you," he whispered back, knowing the god was too far out of reach to hear him, " Poseidon, cursed emperor of the sea."

* * *

"Check mate again, brother! My, I have finally regained my rightful place as champion of Elysium!"

"Whatever you say, Thanatos", came Hypnos' tired voice. "I think I really should give up playing against you. It proves quite useless."

"Oh, come now, you love playing against me!" the blond headed god declared, feigning to be hurt.

"If you say so…"

"Oh relax! By the way, I have great news for us!"

"Pray tell, what are these news?"

Thanatos gave his brother a look of mystery which immediately caught the other's full attention.

"She is here!" the blond head finally said, his voice full of triumph.

"What!!!! You mean… Persephone has come?"

"Indeed, she has."

"Then our plan has worked."

Thanatos nodded in agreement, snatching an apple from the fruit basket which had been standing on his right.

"Indeed. All the way up to the pouch of pomegranate seeds you gave our empress upon your first meeting. That brainless wyvern deciphered nothing of his role in our game. But I have to say, your own pawn proved to be useful."

Hypnos waved his hand, as though dismissing the matter all together.

"It was nothing, brother really. Putting your hopes in a tortured soul who has committed crimes he never wanted to, there's nothing easier than believing such a being will one day or another end up being hated and disregarded by the very ones he loves."

Thanatos laughed upon this statement, clearly enjoying their conversation.

"Yes, only fools do not take pleasure in being assassins."

"Indeed."

A long silence ensued this declaration, during which each of the brothers seemed to pounder over one an others revelations. Hypnos sipped on his wine absentmindedly while his brother finished chomping the apple he had barely begun eating before discarding it altogether.

"Indeed, my pawn was useful," Hypnos finally declared. "But without Adonis, we would have failed."

"Ah, Adonis!" Thanatos dramatically proclaimed. "Yes, even now he proves to be useful. Be sure to keep him in the state he is in. He almost broke my plans before the time was ripe."

"Hum, relax, Thanatos," the other reassured him, placing his empty glass upon the small table they shared. "Marble is what suits him best."


	14. Memories

Here is chapter XIV. I regret to say that this tale is soon going to meet its end. :'( I know, for me too it is very hard to admit. I put so much in this story! There should still be six or seven chapters though so there is still a lot of things for you to discover ^^ I think I will have finished this story by Christmas and plan on writing a short story in the same universe as this one as a special tale for Christmas. If you have wishes/ideas of what should be in this Christmas time story, I will be more than happy to receive your ideas and wishes! ^^

I still have many stories for Saint Seiya to write, in the same universe as this tale, with the same characters, etc… So I still plan on enjoying your mind with many tales in the upcoming months! (And yeha, I'm going ot have free time.. :( I'm on the brink of having 4 months sick leave because of a slipped disk in my vertebrae. Just hope I can avoid surgery! Wish me luck!)

Anyways, now, on with the story!

Oh yes, and please, review!!!! ^^

* * *

CHAPTER XIV

MEMORIES

All was dark and unbearably cold, things which the young goddess had never truly been confronted with during all her years spent upon the surface of earth. The Wyvern was walking before her, showing the way, head down low in shame, guilt and fear. Discretely, she risked an eye above her shoulder but all she managed to see was darkness and fear. She shivered slightly, trying to gather what memories she had of the underworld as best she could, but no matter how far she went in her memories, she could not recall wandering amongst such dark and sinister alleyways where all smelled decay and death itself. In her memories, there had been flowers, flowing rivers of dark water and singing springs far beyond the borders of Elysium itself. It had not been as beautiful as the fields of Elysium of course, but there had been light and hope for those whose souls needed amending before crossing the gates which led to the Blessed Realm. Of course, these halls and prisons had been sad and desolated upon her first arrival but it soon had changed. Still, even then, there had been no such sufferings and pain, perspiring from the walls themselves.

Judging by what she could make out of her surroundings, and from the faint memories she recalled, they seemed to be standing outside of the second prison, facing towards the third. A vast empty valley of dust and ashes laid before them when suddenly a glint amidst the darkness caught her attention. What was this? She thought; now that was definitely not familiar. Without even addressing a word to the specter accompanying her, she made her way across the barren wasteland and what she saw made her slightly scream in shock.

It was a woman. Or rather, what was left of it. All her body had been turned into a monolith of stone; only her shoulders, head and long golden hair remained.

"My Queen," came Rhadamanthys' voice from the main walkway, "you should not be wandering out in the prison's waste land. It is not a place suitable for your kind."

The goddess slowly turned her head towards the judge barely concealing her annoyance and shot him a long glare which only allowed him to gulp in discomfort.

"Were you saying something, Wyvern?" she asked, coldly.

"I.. No… Nothing your Highness… I was simply talking to myself."

She smiled in contentment, and finally turned her attention back upon the statue as the Wyvern let out a small sigh of relief. Things were definitely going to be less easy for him now that Lady Persephone had returned. Things, he knew, were definitely not going to be the same in this new Holy War and he was beginning to wonder if the changes would be for the better or the worst.

Meanwhile, the goddess had not taken her eyes off the stone woman when suddenly her head began to move, taking the goddess by surprise. How was it possible for this girl to be still alive in such a state, she wondered?

The head seemed just as surprised as she was and let out a small cry of fright before confounding herself in excuses amidst her tears.

Recovering from her shock, the goddess slowly came closer and silently brough up the girl's tearful face with one of her white hands.

"Please, do not cry child. You have surprised me is all," she said trying to sooth the girl in the process.

"I am sorry, my lady," the girl struggled to say, her voice still quavering because of her tears, "it is just that I have never seen you here before. Who are you? What is someone as beautiful as you doing in such a horrible place?"

The goddess almost smiled at such a babbling of questions but chose to keep her smile to herself.

"Hush child, I will do you no harm. As for who I am, I will tell you once you will have told me what has happened to you in the first place. Surely you have not turned your body into stone all by yourself!"

At this, the girl started crying again which left the goddess unsure of what to do in order to have her cease this behavior. Finally, the girl managed to calm herself down and accepted to answer.

"I… I died once upon earth. The man I loved came down into Hell and played the lyre to lord Hades so that he would allow him to bring me back from the dead. Our love was very special and my beloved was a very talented player. His majesty Hades accepted to let me go, touched as he was by my beloved's playing on the only condition that he would not try to look back at me until we would be finally out under sunlight. But my beloved thought he saw the sun before we had left lord Hades' domain and thus I was turned into stone: neither living, nor dead."

At this, the goddess felt the urge to sit. So love was after all still strong even amongst mortals. Perhaps had she been wrong… But then again… Here she was alone… This mortal man had been too impatient and had not chosen to wait and make for certain that he was out in the open before turning around. His heart had been too weak.

"Tell me…" she asked, after a small moment of silence, "This man, how could he have left you here in such a state?"

"Oh but he hasn't left me!" the half woman fervently answered, her eyes suddenly filling with tenderness. "He chose to remain in Hell for my sake alone. Every day he comes and remains by my side, playing his music for me when he is not playing for his majesty Hades."

At this, the goddess was stricken with surprise. Perhaps had she been too quick upon delivering her judgement on mortals' feelings.

"But it also makes me suffer."

At this, the goddess felt totally at loss. How could such a true behavior from her beloved bring her any sufferings?

"I do not understand," she carefully stated, quietly probing for the other to reveal the true reason of her pain.

"He… He is Orpheus, a Saint of Athena. And because of me, he has betrayed his vow to serve the Goddess in her war against Hades, serving the dark emperor instead."

The goddess silently sighed, almost relieved to hear such words from the woman. In this at least she could bring some comfort to this poor soul.

"Listen…," she begun, "I have known saints of the Goddess in my life upon earth and their deeds were not what I would claim as good. Some of them were even utterly evil."

Flashes of Arianne's words came to her mind and she remembered the two bodies being left to decay at the city gates; the deeds of a God, Arianne had said; what if it had been Athena's deeds?

She shivered at the thought but chose not to share her wonderings with the girl in front of her. After all, she was not certain these were the deeds of the Goddess in any way, it was only the fruit of her speculations.

"It is not because Hades rules over the underworld that his will is utterly evil. Look! He had given you and your beloved a chance to begin life anew upon earth!"

The girl shook her head, tears beginning to form upon her long dark eye lashes.

"It was only once. The Emperor never shows mercy. He wishes only to see earth destroyed!"

Flashes of her past life came to the goddess's mind and she saw herself running across fields of barley under a summer sun, gathering poppies as a figure in the distance, with long raven hair waved his hand in her direction, a smile grazing his lips. If this was the world Hades wanted, then she could see nothing ill in it. Perhaps was it better to let the fate of earth in the hands of the Emperor of Hell rather than in the hands of the would be Goddess of Wisdom, goddess which, she reminded herself, was her sister never the less. The feeling itself was discomforting and she chose to dismiss it from her mind altogether.

Raising her head once more to face the condemned young mortal, she added:

"I once saw a world where barley grew, birds sang amongst the trees in bloom and afar, farmers were gathering the crops before the midsummer rains. And in this world, the lord Hades was smiling and walking amidst the fields, the wind playing across his raven hair. If this is the world the Lord of this kingdom wants, I see no harm in it."

The girl simply averted her eyes and gazed at the barren waste land in which she stood.

"I cannot believe you," she whispered bitterly. "I need only look around me to know that it is not true. All here is but pain, fear, darkness and destruction. Every day I hear the cries of my fellow mortals who have died screaming in agony as they endlessly suffer for crimes they have never committed. It seems as though Hades' only wish is to see men suffer and never be at peace."

At this, the goddess could only bite her lips in confusion. What the young woman had just said was all but too true. She had felt it upon her arrival in the underworld. All had been but pain, suffering, darkness and desolation. But, she thought, things would change now that she was here. Perhaps had she been chosen as the Queen of this world but she remained none the less a goddess of earth.

Silently, she gathered her cosmo and her warm energy came to wrap around her fair body like a veil of soft evening light. Setting her two hands upon the cold ground, she set her eyes upon the broken woman once more:

"Things will change," she declared, confidently. "For now, all I can offer is this. But one day, I wish for you to be relieved of this prison which chains you to this world."

And as she uttered these words, grass began to spread across the desolated landscape, flowers began to bloom and small trees raised their proud heads towards a depressing black heaven as in a sign of warning. The vegetation continued to spread until it had completely recovered the barren wasteland under the bewildered stare of the stone woman and that of the specter. So this was Persephone's power, he thought in fear. Well, this power at least had better be sealed before all of hell turned into a garden, he continued to think, sweat beginning to form on his forehead. Suddenly he passed a raging hand over his forehead, wiping the sweat away in the process. What was he thinking? She was his Queen. He was not allowed to place any judgement on any of her actions; Only the Lord Hades was in some measure allowed to restrain his wife and yet… They were equals… He was not to go against her. What Persephone did, was as rightful as any of Lord Hades' doings or decisions. He bowed his head in frustration. But this, he wondered, was not something he would have thought the Goddess of Hell capable of doing.

He suddenly felt a bright aura pass him by and cursed himself for not being swift enough. Ah, to hell with it, he told himself, after finally deciding not to chase after the newly arrived. Let the man be greeted directly by the goddess herself. He would learn soon enough to keep his place, he had no need to tell the boy about it before hand. It would be a pleasure to see him being humiliated by the Goddess of Hell herself, he thought with pleasure. That boy had taken too many liberties since his arrival in the Kingdom of the Emperor Hades. Playing nice music was something he truly deemed worthless and useless. He sometimes really wondered what the Emperor had found in this traitor. Yes, Orpheus…, he thought again, gritting his teeth. His place was not here. He was not wanted and not welcome! One who has betrayed once, can betray again, that was what he thought. And surely enough, the Saint would turn against them one day or another.

"Who are you, and what are you doing beside Eurydice?"

The voice had been harsh and cold albeit tainted with awe, but if it surprised the goddess, she showed nothing of it.

"Orpheus!" The said Eurydice cried out in shock; "Please! Do not be so rude! This woman did nothing to me. You can see it by yourself! Look! We are going to be in a garden now!" she added, with a slight thrill in her voice.

The man answered nothing, jumping from the cliff where he had been standing into the thick grass which now covered the entire valley.

"And for what reason are we granted such an honor?" he demanded coolly, as the goddess finally chose to turn around and face him. "Hell, as far as I know, is not meant to be a garden of any sorts. It is a place where mortals come to pay for their crimes. Elysium alone is a garden of paradise, they say, the only place where trees and flowers are allowed to grow in the underworld. Surely you know of this, do you not?"

"Then perhaps you would like to have it taken away?" The wyvern yelled, clearly not appreciating the lack of respect the former Saint was showing his Empress.

"Silence wyvern! I did not ask you to intervene."

Rhadamanthys quickly backed away, albeit reluctantly. If his goddess wanted to take care of things herself, then he was fine with it. Still… He was beginning to feel slightly useless in all of this; something which was not really to his liking.

"Things change, saint of Athena," the Goddess replied, emotionlessly, turning her gaze back upon the mortal man once more. "You will learn Hell is not always what it seems. As to why," she continued, spreading her arms over the green fields, "know it is because your beloved has shown me that mortals can still love. It has given me the right to hope still in human nature."

She bowed her head in his direction, making it clear that she was now dismissing him and made way to rejoin the Wyvern.

"Farewell, Eurydice," she called back, as she continued her way up the hill towards the specter, "to our first and perhaps final meeting."

In one last movement of cosmo, the goddess lat a bush of roses grow just in front of the girl's transformed feet, bringing her on the brink of tears. These flowers.. so real, so fresh, so full of souvenirs from the world above.

"Hope… "Orpheus murmured as he watched her leave, " not in the love of mortals… but in that of one man…I saw it in your eyes, Goddess. But which man? That is not for me to answer."

As though she had heard him, the goddess turned around one last time and looked into his direction. For a moment, both held the stare of the other, until she finally chose to turn around, a sad smile grazing her lips as she turned around, regal as always.

Rhadamanthys too could not help but gaze back one last time at the newly grown garden and found himself smiling. He wondered what Pharao's face would be like when he would see the garden in front of the prison her guarded. No doubt the Sphinx would spend a whole week cursing about hell not being a playground. He was beginning to think he really liked his Goddess after all.

"Who was she?" Eurydice asked, eagerly, as Orpheus smiled at her innocent question. She was so sweet, so pure, so gentle… His Eurydice…

"Someone who can grow a garden even in the most desolated of places," he answered, still gazing in the distance to where the Goddess and the specter had disappeared from view.

"I do not understand," she answered, clearly confused by his answer.

"Ah Eurydice," he answered, warmly. "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter at all."

He sat beside what remained of his beloved and hugged her deeply against his chest, thinking of all that had occurred in such a small instant, a small instant which might change this world and their lives forever. Persephone… He thought… May you find what you came for in these forsaken halls. I wish for you to be able to do what I could not…

But what it was he could not do, he did not bother to bring back to his mind; all that mattered was Eurydice…. And Eurydice alone… And for once, they would be able to forget their tragedy in a field of flowers and soft spring grass, in a world where outside the valley, only fear and cries of pain filled the air of a barren wasteland.

* * *

The air was strangely cold, sending a chill up the young woman's spine. Slowly, Arianne opened her eyes and found herself gazing at a high ceiling of white marble. Carefully, she tried to get up, suddenly feeling a great pain pass through her chest as though someone had plunged a dagger in the very center of her heart.

" You should be careful if you try to get up," a harsh female voice came to her ears. "That's quite an attack you went through. You were lucky not to die in the process. Guess there's more to you than what it seems. That is, apart from your evident good looks."

The woman was already beginning to annoy her and she chose to stop listening to her altogether. So she had survived Rhadamanthys' attack after all. She sighed with relief and wondered where the others could be. She silently wished Deneb had been quick enough as to retrieve Cora from the specter's claws and bring the two of them in a safer place.

"Are you listening to me?"

The other woman's voice surprised her in the middle of her thoughts, making her jerk slightly in surprise.

"Yes, yes of course. Pardon me, I am still a little dizzy," she managed to say, her voice slightly hoarse from the lack of water.

The other woman huffed and Arianne finally managed to turn her head enough to discern her features: quite tall, blue eyes, long blond hair and an evident look of superiority.

" I really wonder why my Master has taken the pain to bring you here… anyways," she continued, gesturing towards a chair in front of her bed, "clothes have been prepared for you. Once you will be ready, my Master will receive you in his hall. One of his generals will come to fetch you. You had better be ready once he arrives."

"General?" she asked afraid to understand.

"I have nothing else to add," the other answered harshly as she made way to leave the room. Suddenly, she seemed to reconsider and turned around bringing herself to the aquamarine haired woman's level. Arianne, who had just risen from the bed, looked at her in surprise as the other gripped her arm firmly in a menacing gesture.

"I do not know who you are but I find it strange that my beloved finds interest in you. He came here twice to watch over you without any reason while you were recovering."

"Let go off me," she commended, surprising the other woman with her tone of voice.

"Just to make it clear between us" she hissed, her voice slightly softer as she let go off the other woman's arm, "the Sea Dragon is mine and I will not let some filth like you come in my way."

Sea Dragon? This was not good, Arianne thought rapidly; if she was in Atlantis, it meant that… No! How could Poseidon possibly have been at Cape Sunion at the same time as she, Deneb, Rhadamanthys and most of all... She blanched at the thought. If Cora had met Poseidon, then surely a disaster had occurred.

Seeing her pale, the girl smiled triumphantly believing to have frightened her with her threats.

" As long as you keep away from him, all will be fine," she added, smiling confidently.

"And what, pray tell, has this... Sea Dragon truly promised you?" Arianne asked suddenly, regaining her composure, not liking the way the other woman was acting towards her.

The question seemed to take the other girl aback.

"Nothing", she finally said, less confident suddenly. "He has promised me nothing. But," she continued, straitening herself, "I know he is the one I want and I will have him, even if it takes time. He will acknowledge me and choose me in the end, once this war is over. So do not interfere. Our Lord's protégée or not, I will have your head if you don't, believe me."

To her utter surprise, the woman only laughed at her declaration, a sheer laugh from the heart which managed in the end to truly annoy her. This woman was but a mere mortal after all!

"What is so funny?" she snapped.

"And what if fate chooses otherwise?" the other answered, a smile still grazing her lips. "You do not know what, nor who you are fighting against."

"Hmf! I don't care about fates, I make my own path. Only fools believe in fate, and I certainly won't let a mere mortal tell me what to think or do. You can't stand against me. Be warned! And not even your...Fate can counter me. Be sure of this!"

Arianne simply smiled sadly back at the blond before averting her eyes to another direction.

"If only you were right…" she whispered, "if only fate did not exist."

If the blond heard, she made no sign of answering and taking it as a sign of victory, she made way towards the door.

"Ah, just to let you know" she declared, as she crossed the threshold of the door, " I am mermaid Thetis. Be sure to remember the name."

The door slammed and Arianne was once again alone, alone with all her souvenirs, good and bad. Slowly, she laid back on her bed, resting her tired hands upon her eyes. What a mess they had done! If only she had not placed those silver coins upon Camus' eyes… But she would not have accepted to let him go like this… Not this time. She had promised to honor his body according to the ancient rites, she had made that vow ages ago. Even if it meant perhaps nothing to the man he had been then, even if he did not even know who she was, all that mattered was that she had been at least true to herself. How much it had hurt in Siberia, to be face to face with him again: the same features, the same cold countenance, the same voice… But he had rejected her like a mere stranger and after all, it was not a surprise. She had been nothing to him in this life. It had already been too much for Degel, discovering all these hidden memories of his past; she had not chosen to lay the same burden upon Camus' shoulders. Not this time. Even if this time, would be the last.

She felt hot tears trickle down her cheeks. No, nothing had prepared her to this. They had been supposed to be all gathered for the final battle, such had been the words of the pithy, on Persephone's return. But it had been a lie. He was dead, without any chances of return. She had known, with Degel, that the time was not ripe, that they had come too soon; and she had vowed to rebuild their bounds on his return once the last Holy War was over. She had sworn to wait until then before revealing his past memories and hidden souvenirs and he had promised to remember her as well; to cherish the moments they had shared along with those of his past life. They had both made this vow before his departure to Blue Grad, all because she had believed in the words of a withered old woman speaking in the name of Apollo, all because she had believed their time would come again... In vain.

The tears continued to spill from her amethyst eyes, like rivers flowing down a pale white valley. She was tired… Tired of this life that did not want to end. It had been Hermes' gift in exchange of their services yet, still now, the taste of the ambrosia felt bitter in her mouth. She knew, though, why she had done it: all for the Goddess's sake. And the curse of horrible long life would only be broken with Hades' utter defeat, thus had been the words of the Messenger.

She had to gather herself up, not everything was lost for yet. She still possessed the power to change the course of things, upon the earth as well as in the oceans. She had had that skill, and she still possessed it. Brushing the tears away as best she could, she managed to rise from her bed and went to pick up the clothes which had been laid out for her. Upon seeing them, she felt the dizziness take a hold of her again. These were the exact same clothes as those she had worn ages ago in the hall of the same city, when she had still been a member of Swan House. Yes, these were the official garb of the statute she had held in those remote times. It felt so strange to wear these whites, silver and blues of a time long forgotten.

Fixing the golden pin in her hair, she heard a soft knock upon her door and guessed the said general was here to escort her to Poseidon's apartments. Fine, she thought. The sooner the better.

She made way to open the door but found it already opening, her escort probably finding she was taking too much time, but nothing had prepared her to such a sight.

A ghost, she thought, struggling not quiver in fear as he approached her, it was a ghost!

Seemingly unaware of her discomfort, the man walked towards her, a casual smile upon his face. His long blue hair moved slightly with the small breeze coming from the open door as he came forward, posting himself in front of her, their features almost touching.

"Well well," he mused, "Arianne of the lone Island. It seems our paths meet again!"

Arianne swallowed albeit with difficulty, trying not to betray her previous fit of panic.

"Kanon…" she let out, under her breath, loudly enough to catch his attention, though unwillingly.

He was not sure to have heard correctly, but the fact that the woman apparently knew his exact name had caught him off guard.

"It seems are paths will always lead us to meet again!" she said, brightly, and this time with more conviction, almost in provocation.

"Truly?" he asked, this time less laid back then he usually was.

"You would be surprised," she continued, a faint smile drawing its way upon her lips. "Nokan." She finished.

"That is not my true name," he countered.

"I know," she answered, drawing slightly away from him in the process. "You lied to me. Just like you are now lying to yourself. Your life is made of lies, isn't it, general?"

"I would be happy if you might enlighten me on the subject, lady Arianne," he shot back, his eyes glinting menacingly.

"Oh… Lady Arianne? Where does that come from?" she asked, surprised.

"I do not know," he answered, quite taken aback himself by the question.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the general offered her his arm and motioned towards the open door.

"Lord Poseidon is waiting," he declared, his nonchalance having returned once more and Arianne chose to obey without a word.

It felt strange to walk at the arm of a man in traditional Atlantean clothes in the now deserted streets of the city. The walls and streets still kept the marks of the attack which had led to its destruction, hundreds of years ago, but of Degel and Seraphina's ice Coffin, nothing was left; It seemed as if time had swept them away, like puppets turned to dust in the immense desert which was the sea.

Meanwhile, General Kanon kept to her side, casually glancing from time to time at his companion, a slight grin upon his face, until they finally arrived at the feet of Poseidon's temple.

"Well, what a pleasant sight," came a voice from up the stairs, bringing them to lift their heads in its direction. "I must say, it has been some time, I was curious to see it again."

Poseidon… She felt her fists clench slightly as her blood boiled in anger.

"Sea Dragon, I thank you for escorting my guest, you may go."

Kanon rapidly bowed his head in obedience.

"Yes, my Liege. My lady," he added, bowing his head in her direction, and turned around, leaving the young woman alone by the steps.

So Kanon was the Sea Dragon, she mused. She had guessed he was in Poseidon' service, just not exactly which rank and scale he had claimed as his own. Poor Thetis, she thought. She was not at the end of her disillusions.

"Well, Arianne, will you not come up?"

Always this casual tone; it still exasperated her. The sea God had not changed after all these years. He was still the same self sufficient oaf she had known in the past. Still something in his voice seemed to have changed and she began to feel the urge to see his face again, as he had seen fit to remain in the darkness until now.

"Ah, Arianne," Poseidon exclaimed, as she reached the top of the stairs, turning around so to face his guest. "You have not changed. Ambrosia seems to have this miracle, doesn't it?" he mused.

Still gazing at him in shock, she accepted the cup he offered her and forced herself to smile.

"Indeed it has," she answered, " And I see that you have not changed of appearance, although your body of course, is that of another host."

The god chuckled slightly.

"That is because this war is to be the last, isn't it? You know it as well as me. It was normal that I chose the body of one who resembled me the most, wasn't it?"

"I suppose."

Gesturing for her to take a seat, Arianne silently settled herself in a large armchair, as her host chose to sit in front of her.

"So," he begun finally choosing to break the silence, "how was it to meet with Kanon again, Priestess?"

"I will choose not to answer that question," she answered harshly, clearly not wanting to speak any further on the subject.

"Really… You disappoint me; I would have expected a bit of thanks…"

The crystalline clash of Arianne's glass on the table reduced him to silence, though a satisfied grin was grazing his lips.

"I said," she declared coolly, "I do not wish to speak of this in your company."

The Sea God simply shrugged, settling himself more comfortably, his glass of wine still in hand.

"What were you expecting?" she finally asked, his silence bringing her to the limits of her patience.

" He knows nothing."

"What? Are you trying to tell me you have told him nothing of his past?"

Poseidon shook his head slowly in denial, his smile still upon his face, his elegant blue hair almost hiding his eyes from view.

"He thinks he is manipulating me in order to achieve full control over earth and the oceans. Let him believe what he wants, I find him quite amusing for the time being."

"Of course!" she scoffed. "It amuses you to see him betray his ideals all by the power of your curse, doesn't it?"

"Yes and no," the God declared, evasively. "I am not stupid enough as to believe I am in any ways capable of winning a war against Athena but I also know it is the only way to bring Athena's knights at a superior level than what they are at for the moment. It is not with an army as lame as this that she can hope to defeat Hades once the time has come. Some of her best saints have died in this idiotic intestinal war of Sanctuary..."

"A war in which you had your share, do not forget," she accused him, her voice heavy with reproach. "If it were not for you, he would have never brought up a plan such as this."

"Perhaps not," the god admitted, "but perhaps all this was meant to happen. Hades will not rule this world, of this at least, I am sure. And this final war in Atlantis will help it be so. I am ready to sacrifice my generals for it. Athena and her young little soldiers are so easy to manipulate!" He smirked. "The only ones I wish to be kept alive are Siren Sorento and Sea Dragon Kanon and I am quite sure they will succeed in remaining alive throughout this war."

"And why this?"

"Hmf, do not expect of me to reveal my full plans to you, priestess."

"I am not your priestess anymore," she loathed.

"Perhaps not anymore, but you have been the last one to hold that title. And though you have betrayed your allegiance to me in order to become Sagittarius Arianne, you still remain the High Priestess of Atlantis, no matter what you will chose to do. Just as Aquarius Deneb will remain the Sea Dragon deep inside is soul."

"hmf! The Sea Dragon… the scale of traitors it seems…"

"Indeed," Poseidon observed, a shadow suddenly passing before his brow. "Deneb… Unity… And Kanon…"he finally concluded, playing absentmindedly with his trident.

"And pray tell, what is my part in all this?" she asked, tearing him away from his brooding.

"Aaah… You, Arianne, are my master key…hahahaha!"

The god's uncontrollable laughter began to frighten her and she wondered just what exactly had Poseidon planned for her in all his dark schemes. A war was waging, he had revealed this to her. Now, all she could hope for was to commit the right actions for Athena's cause. Even if these choices would request from her a deadly sacrifice.

She closed her eyes and prayed Poseidon would not see the tears pearling upon the edge of her lashes as his laughter continued to echo across the royal halls of stone.

* * *

"Milo? Milo!"

The young Scorpio Saint woke up suddenly, sweating and pale as a worried young man with lilac hair tried to bring him into a sitting position. The young scorpio felt suddenly dizzy and his companion finally chose to have him lay down again until the dizziness had passed.

"My, he doesn't look too well," another young man with short golden locks murmured upon seeing his comrade's face.

"Aiolia," the purple haired answered, calmly, "If you have nothing else better to say, I suggest you go fetch me a towel and a bowl of cold water."

"As you wish, your highness," the said Aiolia sighed as he feigned bowing before his friend.

At this, the other simply rolled his eyes and waved the other man away, throwing a towel which he no longer needed in the said young man's face in the process. The other simply chuckled sheepishly and ran away, the forsaken towel now lying on the floor in the middle of a mud puddle. The young lilac haired saint sighed in frustration. Truly, there were times when Aries Mu wondered what he had done to deserve serving alongside such totally immature young men. But, he wondered, perhaps it was because his karma had not been pure enough in his previous lives and he was forced now to endure the follies which he himself had brought upon others in his other life.

A soft sound of fabrics rubbing against each other brought him out of his reverie and a relieved smile settle upon his fair face upon seeing the newly arrived.

" Shaka," he said warmly. "I am glad to see you. What brings you here my friend?"

The said Shaka only smiled, passing a hand over his golden bangs, revealing his closed eyes in the process, as he seated himself beside the Aries Saint.

" I have come to bring you company is all," he answered, smiling. "How is he faring?"

"Not well, I deem. He awoke twice already but the only things I managed to understand amidst his babblings did not make any sense. He kept crying about forgiveness. I suppose he is still haunted by the memories of Andromeda Island."

His friend kept silent, his eyes still closed yet facing in the direction of his sleeping comrade. Mu chose not to add anything else and continued tending to his patient, shoving his long hair out of the way as he did so. Rubbing his hands against his tired cheeks, he finally sighed and let his wet towel fall in a flopping sound in the basin beside him. This motion caught the other's attention, making his eyebrows twitch slightly in concern.

"You need rest Mu. You tend too much after others. Perhaps it would be time for you to take a little bit of rest, don't you think?" he suggested.

Mu brushed his hand over his forehead, looking worriedly in Milo's direction before turning his weary eyes towards his friend.

"I know, Shaka. But there is still so much that I must do."

" So? Take a few days rest; they have managed here before without you. Why wouldn't you come with me to India for my annual pilgrimage? I plan on leaving after Athena's return from Hasgard."

Mu bowed thankfully in his friend's direction.

"I thank you for the offer, Shaka. I shall think about it."

"Please, do!" the other commended, giving a friendly clap on the other's forearm. A comfortable silence settled between the two men, each of them lost in his own thoughts.

"Where am I?"

The two young Saints suddenly switched their attention towards the bed, startled to see the Scorpio Saint sitting in his bed, apparently bewildered to be in the company of two of his fellow saints.

"You are in Sanctuary, Milo," Mu answered reassuringly, gesturing for his friend to remain seated. " Aldebaran found you a week ago on the steps of my temple. You had lost consciousness and we feared for the worst. What exactly happened to you?"

"I…. I don't know.. I .. I can't seem to remember!" Milo clasped his hands in despair over his eyes clearly on the brink of tears.

"Hey Mu, brought the stuff you asked for. Next time, ask Kik…." But Aiolia did not get the chance to finish his sentence, seeing as Shaka threateningly opened his eyes to slits, making him understand that silence was his best option for the time being. Milo had not even heard him come in, so engulfed as he was in his own thoughts.

"I .. Have no memory of what happened that night… I do not even remember the funeral of our comrades."

Tears began to trickle down the young man's face, as Mu patted his back in a vain attempt to sooth him.

"Why couldn't I have been rid of the memories of Andromeda Island instead?" he spat.

And his three friends could only watch, helplessly, as their comrade wept ragingly before their eyes.

22


End file.
